


Beans & Bones

by sumomomochi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Asexual Character, Asexual Dave, Developing Relationship, Humanstuck, M/M, Non-Sex Adversive Ace Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumomomochi/pseuds/sumomomochi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>ectoBiologist</b><br/>so there’s this guy who keeps coming to the coffee shop i do a lot of my homework in and i swear every time i see him he has a different skull that he includes in his instagram pictures of his coffee.<br/>how weird is that??</p><p>An obligatory coffee shop au. Also involves bars, bone hunting, copious amounts of lesbians, nude photography, really tiny apartments, crumpet strumpets and unicorn jizz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i promise the unicorn jizz makes sense in context.
> 
> ANYWAYS, updates should be fairly consistent especially since this isn't going to be a terribly long fic. betaing done by the ever lovely [minnie](http://minerva-is-a-robot.tumblr.com). tag on tumblr is #beans and bones if any of you want to follow it for info on updates or something idk.

===>

You get lost wandering around Capitol Hill just after you move into your new apartment. It’s not really a big deal, you guess. If you’re going to get lost, now is a good time since you still have a couple weeks ‘til classes start. You’ve been meaning to explore a little anyway, and really, you’re only a couple stops past your street. Maybe like, five blocks.

Maybe? You’re not entirely sure. You know you’re only two blocks down but you’re not sure how far over you are. Curse street names that are actual words and also not in alphabetical order. Regardless, you cross Broadway and follow Pike up to Eleventh where you find an actual coffee shop. Not a stand like the one down across from East Thomas, but an actual coffee shop with actual walls and doors and stuff.

You cross the street to peek in; you’d been lamenting the idea of doing your homework in your apartment. It’s a great apartment and all and you’re super psyched to have your own place even if Dad’s paying for it but… it’s tiny. Like, really really tiny. Smaller than your room at home but with an added kitchen small.

You end up actually going in and ordering an iced coffee ‘cause if you have to walk back to your apartment, wherever it is, you’re going to be thirsty. And besides, you get to scope the place out while you wait for the baristas to make your drink.

It’s cushy, full of low, leather couches and armchairs and dark wood coffee tables. A quick look at the wifi connections on your phone tells you that they have their own. Then your coffee is up, the girl who made it giving you a cheeky wink as she calls your name. You walk out with it, back into the late summer heat. Six blocks down eleventh, you find your building and finish your coffee. It’s delicious.

===>

A couple of days later, you stuff your backpack with a bunch of books to simulate the weight you’re expecting once classes start and walk down to that coffee shop again. It sucks mega balls since it’s still somehow eighty degrees, which you really don’t understand. You’ve lived in Washington all your life and yet you still somehow always manage to forget that summer exists. It’s supposed to be raining damnit. Nevertheless, you make it and the A/C is a godsend. Same for your iced coffee.

You collapse into one of the armchairs, sinking deep into its leathery embrace. It’s heavenly. You don’t even care that the backs of your knees are already sticking to the chair. It’s cool against your sweaty skin and so deep and cushy. You don’t think you’ll ever get up again.

ectoBiologist  
so i have concluded that coffee shops are the best thing. scientific fact here.  
tell dad he doesn’t need to pay my rent anymore. i’m never going to leave this chair.

gardenGnostic  
ahahah you better not!!! or i will never hear the end of karkats bitching :(  
hes still whining about carrying your fatass mattress up a hill and then a flight of stairs AND THEN through the super weird narrow hallways of your building

ectoBiologist  
hehehehe well he shouldn’t have offered to help!

gardenGnostic  
i would have made him anyway ;DDD  
theres NO WAY i would have passed up watching my smoking hot boyfriends get all sweaty and shirtless while doing hard labour ;DDDD

ectoBiologist  
bluh gross!!!  
also ew.

gardenGnostic  
heeheeh  
is it too hot in your apartment though??? i could bring you more fans

ectoBiologist  
it’s not too bad. sorta gets really sweaty if i’ve got a bunch of stuff on but mostly it’s alright.  
the fan i’ve got already does a pretty good job of circulating air :)

gardenGnostic  
good!!

ectoBiologist  
though i think i do want to get another fan for the loft so i don’t have to keep moving shit around.  
and i’m sort of using the fan to keep my window open >>

gardenGnostic  
lol yeah you should probably do something about that you dummy!!

ectoBiologist  
well i do live on the second floor! so it’s not like anyone can sneak in my window.  
but i think i have too much stuff :T makes moving around kind of hard.

gardenGnostic  
i toooold you you wouldn’t have enough room for everything!!!!

ectoBiologist  
no i totally will!! i just have to, like, rearrange to get it all to fit.  
but! i’ll probably bring my desk back. it’s a pretty little desk but it takes up SO MUCH ROOM and i think i’ll just come to this coffee shop to do most my work anyway.  
there’s actual lighting here!!!

gardenGnostic  
lol i thought you LIKED the christmas light thing you dirty hipster you ;DD

ectoBiologist  
i do. it’s cool and fine for like, regular book reading but it’s going to be a total asspain doing stuff out of a textbook DX  
i am way too used to having a nice, big kitchen table to do homework at.

gardenGnostic  
eheheheh yeaaaah.

ectoBiologist  
so yeah. coffee shops. good job seattle. a+.

===>

carcinoGeneticist  
IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT ASKING ME TO COME REMOVE SHIT FROM YOUR APARTMENT YOU ARE COMPLETELY ASSBATTY.

ectoBiologist  
assbatty? ahahahah

carcinoGeneticist  
SHUT THE FUCK UP. HALLOWEEN DECORATIONS ARE ON SALE AT SAFEWAY. I AM ALLOWED TO BREAK OUT THE SEASONAL INSULTS.

ectoBiologist  
eheheheh  
but no it’s only one thing. i think me and jade can handle it ourselves :)  
or maybe me and dad. idk who’s going to come down for it.

carcinoGeneticist  
THANK GOD. I THINK I DEVELOPED A FUCKING HERNIA LAST TIME.

ectoBiologist  
eeeew karkat i totally don’t need to know about your butthole.

carcinoGeneticist  
WOW YOU’RE A COMPLETE MEANIE FACE.

ectoBiologist  
pffft ahahaha wow nice comeback?

carcinoGeneticist  
OH EXCUSE ME. I FIGURED I MIGHT AS WELL SPEAK IN A VERNACULAR YOU ACTUALLY UNDERSTAND, CONSIDERING YOU SEEM TO HAVE REGRESSED TO THE AGE OF FOUR.

ectoBiologist  
lol i know you are but what am i?

carcinoGeneticist  
OH MY FUCKING GOD DID YOU ACTUALLY DO THAT?  
PLEASE TELL ME YOU DID NOT ACTUALLY DO THAT AND MY EYES ARE DECEIVING ME.

ectoBiologist  
;B

===>

“Wow, you’re, uh, sure in here a lot recently.”

The barista (barister??? you think it’s French so it should have a male version, right?) grins at you from behind the counter, sharpie in one hand, cup in the other, poised to take your order. He’s the one with the mohawk and cool gauges who walks with a bit of a limp. You grin back.

“My apartment’s really close and also really tiny, plus you have A/C.”

“That totally makes sense,” he laughs, “You get iced coffees, right?”

You answer in the affirmative as the girl behind the espresso machine whines, “No, get something else. Iced coffees are lame.”

“Oh, uh, surprise me then?”

The girl cackles and snatches the cup out of her co-worker’s hand, who raises his eyebrows at you. Then he shakes his head sadly, sighing, “Protip dude, _never_ let Terezi choose your drink. She’s uh. A little strange.”

Terezi sticks her tongue out at him while she pours some strange concoction into your cup. “Wow, Tav, way to kiss my ass.”

“Sorry, Terezi, but you don’t, really, you know. Have much of an ass for me to kiss.”

She cracks up laughing at that, throwing a.. a muffin? at him in retaliation. He flinches behind raised arms to block her muffin-y assault, squawking as it bounces off him. You snicker as you shuffle off around the counter, leaning against it.

“So should I actually be worried?” you ask.

“Nope!” Terezi promises, her wide grin a little sinister, “My concoctions are always awesome. Only the best colours are involved!”

You grimace, “That sounds really ominous.”

“No, no. Trust me.”

“No, don’t trust her.”

“Dave trusts me.”

“Well, uh. Dave’s crazy.”

Terezi cackles again. You shoot her a grin in return as she hands you your… drink. It’s kind of worrisome how… teal it is, but it tastes pretty good, like mint and some sort of fruit.

You claim one of the armchairs and conclude that yeah, you totally like it here.

===>

There’s _this guy_. You don’t see him at all until September hits, when it starts cooling down. Then, you see him three times in a week, every week, every time after five.

Terezi draws your attention to him in the first place, perking up when he walks in while you’re ordering. It’s kind of scary considering Terezi’s base personality is manic perky, but this dude walks in and eyebrows start wiggling everywhere. She teases him, “Wow, finally gracing us with your presence again?”

Your cup gets passed down to Nepeta and you scoot along the counter to follow it, trying not to stare at the dude. You don’t do so well. His exchange with Terezi is pretty quiet on his end, while she laughs her ass off in response and then Nepeta’s handing you your coffee and you promptly busy yourself with school work.

And if you check your watch every time you notice him walk in, well, it’s just coincidence.

===>

There’s this guy. He’s taken over your spot at the counter, casually chatting TZ up as he orders until you actually walk in. Naturally, you attract the attention of all the ladies, even though it’s mostly just her snarking, “Wow, finally gracing us with your presence again?” as she passes her previous order down.

You lean in, letting your shades slide down your nose a little to fix her with the Strider Stare, and croon, “My balls are no longer dripping with sweat. I am finally fit for polite company.”

She does the gross snort that grows into her obnoxious, crowing laughter. You smirk back and, when she finishes scrawling out her barista shorthand for whatever it is she’s forcing on you this time and that guy goes to sit, you ask, “So who was that?”

“Jealous are you, Mister Strider?”

“Naw, just looking out for my main girl is all,” you shrug and she fixes you with a sardonic stare. You shrug again and add, “And maybe I’m a gossipy bastard and he’s pretty. Just fill me in on the deetz, babe.”

“Just a new regular. Moved out here to go to Yew-Dub. He is pretty cute though,” and off her eyebrows go.


	2. Chapter 2

===>  
ectoBiologist  
so there’s this guy who keeps coming to the coffee shop i do a lot of my homework in and i swear every time i see him he has a different skull that he includes in his instagram pictures of his coffee.  
how weird is that??

gardenGnostic  
wow thats really weird!! :O  
please tell me they’re little skulls though i think really big skulls would be weird!!!  
extra weird :O

ectoBiologist  
they’re pretty little i guess.  
i think today’s was a dog skull???

gardenGnostic  
:O!!!! wow

ectoBiologist  
like a little dog skull. not quite yappy rat dog size but definitely not like a labrador or something.  
my big question though is where does he keep getting all these skulls???

===>

gardenGnostic  
ssssoooooo!! how’s school my darling baby brother??? ;DDD

ectoBiologist  
oh god, what do you want?

gardenGnostic  
nothing!!!! :O what ever made you think i wanted something????

ectoBiologist  
you’re winking ominously at me. don’t think i haven’t caught on to your devious ways!

gardenGnostic  
heeheeheehee  
okay i admit i am totally angling to have you take me out drinking!!!!  
there’s this super rad bar and i’m pretty sure it’s within walking distance of your apartment so we should totally go sometime!! :DDD  
buuuuut i also do want to know how you’re handling school and living on your own and all. i AM a good big sister you know gosh!!!!!!

ectoBiologist  
it’s not much different than when i was going to the bothell campus? like classes are still classes and stuff idk.  
i mean it’s a lot cooler because wow the university district is basically its own little city! and it’s nice to be taking the cool classes i want to take rather than having a schedule full of boring required bs :T

gardenGnostic  
fascinating :O

ectoBiologist  
ehehe yeah not really.  
having my own apartment is cool though!  
i mean it’s not much bigger than my room at home and it gets a little lonely sometimes ‘cause it’s just me but it’s really great not having dad wake me up like four hours before i need to be up ehehehe.

gardenGnostic  
uuuuugh lucky!! sol and karkat are thinking they want to get an apartment for all three of us now that sol is getting all these programing jobs and i think thatd be super rad!!!  
but id also feel really awful if i did move in with them cause theyd be paying all the bills while im in school :T

ectoBiologist  
eheheh have you told them this?

gardenGnostic  
yeaaaaaah and karkat did his thing where he screeched and was all like WELL IF WE DIDNT WANT YOU TO LIVE WITH US WE WOULDNT HAVE OFFERED YOU ASSFACE SO SHUT UP AND LET US LOVE YOU RAWR GRUGH

ectoBiologist  
pfffft

gardenGnostic  
and sollux was like ye2 and al2o we totally need 2omeone to keep u2 from murderiing each other and do the cooking and 2hiit that ii2 so totally your job come be our waiifu  
with like the really weird eyebrow dance he does!!

ectoBiologist  
ahaahha your boyfriends are total dorks.

gardenGnostic  
yeah its great uvu  
speaking of which!!! now that youre in a new area have you found anybody cute for you to smooch???? ;DDDD

ectoBiologist  
naw not really.  
i’ve made some friends and they’re all really neat, and one of them is pretty hot but she’s also kind of a bitch so...  
terezi’s pretty cool and i like talking to her.  
she’s the barista at the coffee shop i do my homework in but the dude with the skulls flirts with her a lot so i think they’re maybe dating??? idk

gardenGnostic  
lol well that would totally explain why skulldude loiters there so much

ectoBiologist  
yep totally  
terezi never mentions him though so maybe not?  
and i think he flirts with a lot of people. there’s like this rotation of pretty ladies that’ll come in with him occasionally and he schmoozes a lot.

gardenGnostic  
pfft sounds like your peoplewatching has spawned a whole soap opera ;D

ectoBiologist  
says the lady dating two of the grumpiest dudes to ever exist ever.

gardenGnostic  
eheehehehe 

ectoBiologist  
idk maybe he’s poly too? i mean this is capitol hill, so i wouldn’t be surprised.  
……..  
maybe he’s like, a pimp. a hipster pimp who’s so underground you probably haven’t heard of the pimping he does.

gardenGnostic  
pfffft omfg john!!!! ahahhaheheheh wow XDDD

ectoBiologist  
that’s why he has so many skulls. bones are like the hipster currency.  
because they come from  
underground  
*puts shades on* YEAAAAAAH

gardenGnostic  
oaihgoaidhoasdhgasdihag  
XDDDDDD  
bad john worst puns!!!!

ectoBiologist  
;B

===>

You catch yourself staring at Skulldude when you should really be focusing on studying, although to be fair, you’ve been studying all day and he’s wearing bright red jeans. The moment he walked in, he distracted you.

But tight red skinny jeans! Cuffed practically halfway up his calves, a good three inches above the tops of his boots. And he’s wearing argyle dress socks. With bright red skinny jeans. Who even does that?

===>

ectoBiologist  
so today skulldude came in way earlier than usual and i think he’s hung over.  
or maybe just sick idk. either way he looks like ass.

gardenGnostic  
wow noticing his looks john??? ;D

ectoBiologist  
shoosh no flirtatious winking from the peanut gallery!!

gardenGnostic  
ouch you wound me!! :O

ectoBiologist  
bluuuuh.  
but no usually he’s like.... idk maybe not super accessorized but he dresses pretty well. like for a dirty hipster and stuff.  
but he didn’t even cuff his pants today which is almost really funny ‘cause they’re actually SUPER short.  
he’s just wearing a tshirt and jeans pretty much...  
he doesn’t even have his skull!!!

gardenGnostic  
oh no skulldude is no longer skulldude?????  
gasp!!!

ectoBiologist  
ifhoaghadf  
dude.  
it’s really weird. and sort of worrying? like he doesn’t really seem the sort to ever leave his house without being like, the raddest of the rad or something.  
but i’m pretty sure he slept in that shirt.

gardenGnostic  
wow youre being really hardcore observational  
idk if its cute or creepy????

ectoBiologist  
uuuugh neither gosh!! you’d notice if i looked like shit!

gardenGnostic  
duh!! you’re my brother!!!!!!!!  
YOU on the other hand havent even talked to skulldude!! like ever!! at aaaaaall oAo

ectoBiologist  
DX  
that’s not the point at all!

gardenGnostic  
if youre so worried you should go see whats up! :O

ectoBiologist  
yeah i should totally go up to this random stranger and be like “wow dude you look like shit please allow me to be a mother hen”  
that’s karkat’s shtick.

gardenGnostic  
:I  
you dont have to be such an asshole about it

ectoBiologist  
aduifhoadhga sorry :T

gardenGnostic  
no its okay i know how you get when you have a crush~ o/

ectoBiologist  
a crush??? i so don’t have a crush on skulldude where the hell did you even get that from?

gardenGnostic  
im just teasing you gosh!!!!! no need to get all defensive and stuff XO

ectoBiologist  
……..  
is that a hugs and kisses xo or an emote?

gardenGnostic  
:I  
here let me rephrase  
>O 

ectoBiologist  
eheheheh

Jade is way off base! There’s no way you have a crush on Skulldude! He just... he looks fucking exhausted and you see him constantly so it’s only natural that you worry a little. You worry when Terezi isn’t her usual scarily perky self!

But then, you guess, you _have_ had conversations with Terezi. You can admit that Skulldude is pretty attractive; you are totally comfortable enough with your sexuality to concede to the fact that the dude is pretty, all tall and slender and shit. And he usually dresses pretty well, too. People may think you’re totally oblivious but you _do_ actually pick up on shit. You couldn’t be a scientist otherwise.

A crush. Pah.

===>

The weekend sneaks up on you faster than you thought possible. Jade’s been harassing you about that super rad bar!! that you’re apparently really close to, so you’re finally going. Naturally, she’s dragging Karkat and Sollux along for the ride, which means you know the instant they arrive. Jade doesn’t even have to text you to let you know! You can hear Karkat’s usual overzealous yelling even over the rain as you skip down the stairs to the lobby.

Jade grins at you and waves through the window, her usual entourage of boys huddling up under the building's overhang. You jiggle the handle and shove the door open with your shoulder, unsticking it where the wet has swelled the wood.

“You know, around the corner is an actual porch.”

Karkat somehow manages to scowl even harder, grousing, “Are you fucking kidding me.”

“Well! We parked that way -- “ your sister points to the right, up the block, “ -- so we would have just gotten wetter anyway!”

“Yeah, I guess. Where is this bar, anyway?” you ask as you hold the door open for the three of them, pressing back against the door jamb to give them room. Jade leads the way, her boys following in her wake like a pair of wet, disgruntled kittens.

“Uh, Eleventh and Pike, I think?”

That’s actually right near your coffee shop! Which is strange since you totally don’t remember there being a bar around. You snort, “Why did you park on the other side of twelfth then?”

“I didn’t see parking anywhere else! And it’ll probably be easier to just go down twelfth anyway since there’s a light right there.”

“We could have just fucking,” Karkat cuts off with an angry huff, “You’re a complete pain in the ass.”

“Yup!” Jade says brightly as Sollux grumbles, “Seconded.”

You snicker and lead the way up to your little apartment. Since you’re apparently going to drive rather than walk, you figure you should eat something first. Bar food is always really expensive and you’re a poor college student! And going down twelfth means that Dicks is not an option.

“Jesus christ, you actually _live_ here?” is the first thing anyone says when you open your door. You flip Karkat the bird, wrinkling your nose. There’s nothing wrong with your apartment! It’s cozy! And probably bigger than a dorm room anyway, so Karkat can shut his stupid face.

“At least he isn’t living with his parents still,” Sollux teases. Karkat snaps back, “Like you’re one to talk, you slimy basement dweller,” and Jade giggles, climbing halfway up the ladder to your loft to sit on one of the rungs. Karkat and Sollux drop as one onto the tiny loveseat you wedged in next to the window and you step up onto the crate you leave in front of your stove to reach the top shelf above it.

Karkat deadpans, “I suddenly understand why you spend so much time in that stupid coffee shop of yours.”

“Hey, don’t diss the coffee shop, it’s a really nice coffee shop! It’s full of cute girls and delicious… stuff,” you snap back, amused.

Sollux says, “Fascinating,” so dryly you think about offering him a glass of water, but then Jade wiggles her eyebrows at you and says, “So does Skulldude count as some of this delicious…. _stuff_?”

You don’t even have to mentally insert her usual barrage of saucy wink emotes. She actually winks at you in a fashion that can totally be called saucy. You sputter and just barely manage to not fall off your stepping stool, windmilling your arms as you step down.

“No! Gosh!” You shake your can of soup at your sister, “Will you quit insisting on me having a crush I so totally don’t have!”

“Wow, for not having this supposed crush, you’re sure getting pissy over it.” Karkat says, rolling his eyes as you brandish your pot at his words. Sollux snickers and you scowl. Being tag teamed by your sister and her boyfriends over your supposed crush that doesn’t exist _at all_ is so how you wanted to spend your evening.

They at least drop the subject while you heat up some dinner and you almost snort soup out your nose at the face Karkat makes over you eating straight from the pot; “Why dirty up another dish?”

“Maybe because you’re actually a civilized fucking person, except wait, no you’re not. This much is obvious as you’re a twenty two year old eating fucking _spaghettios _out of a fucking pot.”__

__“Could be eating them out of the can,” Sollux supplies and you point your spoon at him, grinning, “Exactly!”_ _

__“Yeah,” Karkat gripes, “That’s what you do. Sometimes I amaze myself with the sheer level of asinine bullshit I manage to put up with and I have no idea why I do it.”_ _

__“You get laid for it is why,” you point out. Your sister adds, “You get to have hot, sexy threesomes.”_ _

__Karkat heaves a defeated sigh when Sollux says, “They have a point.”_ _

__By the time you’re ready to leave, the rain has let up so you do end up walking, following eleventh down behind… you’re not actually sure what it is. Google says it’s a park but it’s been walled off for construction basically the entire time you’ve lived here. Regardless, the bar is only a couple blocks past it, even with how you have to circle around because Jade is the worst at directions._ _

__Turns out it’s more on twelfth and Pike._ _

__“‘The Unicorn’? Really?” You aren’t actually all that surprised, considering this was your sister’s idea and all, but this is probably the gayest bar you’ve seen and that’s saying something considering you live on Capitol Hill. It’s also packed. Jade fingerguns at you as she follows the host to a free booth. You, Sollux, and Karkat squeeze through the crowd after her with trepidation._ _

__The walls are painted with brightly coloured candy stripes, half the bar mirrored and gilded and there’s mounted taxidermy everywhere. It almost reminds you of your grandpa’s house, only with more pink. Totally Jade’s sort of place._ _

__And then, just as you’re wedging yourself into the corner of the booth, you catch sight of Skulldude. You catch sight of Skulldude and _he notices you too_. He lifts his chin in acknowledgement and you may or may not squeak a little._ _

__Karkat sighs, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” and then he looks at you and repeats himself with a little extra vitriol. You sink down into the booth to hide behind your sister and very pointedly busy yourself with memorizing the drink menu. Oh hey, unicorn jizz. That sounds like an entirely appetizing drink!_ _

__“Fancy seeing you here, stranger.”_ _

__You’re not surprised at the smooth tenor of his voice. You have, after all, heard him talk before, but it’s really weird to hear it directed at yourself. You make a strangled choking noise that is thankfully covered by the din of the bar, but Jade doesn’t start teasing you and when you glance up, he’s looming over Karkat, hip cocked to the side and one hand braced against the back of the booth._ _

__“I see adulthood has not tempered your obnoxious dickbaggery,” Karkat snarks back._ _

__Skulldude snorts, “Wow, you’ve lost your touch bro. What happened to your Shakespearian-esque insults?”_ _

__Karkat scowls and inhales deeply only to raise a fist and… bite his thumb. The smile that blooms across Skulldude’s face lights up the room, and you say that in a completely heterosexual way. His shoulders shake with laughter that you can’t quite hear and you’re pretty sure he ends up with dimples when he tries to reign in his grin._ _

__Karkat rolls his eyes when Skulldude drops into a squat by your table, folding his arms across the top, chin on his crossed wrists. He lifts the fingers on one hand and says, “‘Sup, I’m Dave.”_ _

__Jade’s the one to introduce you all, pointing first at Sollux, then at you before finishing with herself. Skulldude -- _Dave_ , wow he has a name -- arches one eyebrow, turning his head just a little to look at Karkat. You’re left with an eyeful of a long, pale neck while he teases, “You doin’ twins now, Karkles? I’m scandalized.”_ _

__You squawk a wordless protest as Jade laughs and Sollux grins, “Nope, but that’s a pretty good idea.”_ _

__Jade laughs harder, folded over the table as she snorts and giggles, and you can feel how red you’ve turned as you all but shriek, “No, stop, bad Sollux! _We’re not even twins_!”_ _

__“Well, I can pretend, can’t I?”_ _

__You join Jade face down on the table, except you’re not dying of laughter. You are, in fact, dying of embarrassment. The drink menu is your tombstone. You use it as a guard against Sollux’s dickery._ _

__“I thought you were ordering drinks, Dave,” a woman says. You look up to find him unfolding as he stands, heaving an over exaggerated sigh. They look practically identical._ _

__“If I must.” He flicks his fingers in a salute-wave hybrid and follows his body double._ _

__As soon as he’s gone, you hiss to Karkat, “You know him?”_ _

__Jade’s gigglefit resumes and Karkat levels you with his nine-hundred percent done face. Three drinks later, you start pestering Karkat about info on Dave the Skulldude. His only reply is to suck at his teeth and side eye you, and you swear in that moment, he’s Kankri._ _

__You wake up spectacularly hung over after having apparently passed out on the floor of your apartment._ _

__ ===> _ _

__“I fucking love this city,” you sigh, tumbler at your lips. Your sister looks over at you, raises one eyebrow, then twists to follow your gaze while you add, “Only in Seattle do you find intensely attractive people combining the aesthetics of hipsters and lumberjacks. Pretty sure he’s the new regular at Vita too. ‘Least I think he’s the one who’s been chatting Tee-Zee up.”_ _

__Rose smirks at you knowingly, “He is indeed quite attractive. I hope I didn’t interupt your flirting.”_ _

__“Yes totally. How am I ever going to get laid now,” you snort sarcastically and down your shot. The alcohol burns as you swallow, settling like fire in your gut and you settle back against your chair. You’re warm from the inside out, a little more than comfortably fuzzy. Even if you weren’t wearing your shades, you’d be staring unabashedly at him. Nobody should be allowed to rock that sort of neckbeard so well, jesus shit._ _

__Your twin joins you in musing him over, her shoulder against yours. The two of you probably look really creepy as you stare across the bar at this one person -- straight up Grady sisters shit -- but, welp. What do you care? You’re thoroughly intoxicated and he is really attractive, neckbeard and all._ _

__After a while, Rose says, “He has impeccably groomed facial hair,” like she’s reading your mind._ _

__“And fantastic cheekbones.”_ _

__As you watch, he throws his head back against the booth, chest lifting with a heavy sigh. He’s got a well defined Adam’s apple and the underside of his beard is just as well kept as the rest. You can feel your twin laugh as you bite your lip._ _

__“You totally want him naked,” she teases._ _

__“And in front of my lens. He has blue eyes. Frodo blue eyes, swear to god.”_ _

__“With that colouring? I would have expected brown.”_ _

__You groan, “I know.” You have such a thing for dark skin and pale eyes, and this kid? Thick, dark curls and what has to be spectacularly rich olive skin. You could probably make his eyes glow with the right lighting. “Freaking Afghan Girl levels of contrast,” you sigh._ _

__“You are completely infatuated.”_ _

__“Yep.”_ _

__“And so candid.”_ _

__You salute her with your tumbler with a wry twist of your lips; “No, just drunk.”_ _

__ ===> _ _

__carcinoGeneticist  
SO, YOUR NOT-CRUSH ON DAVE._ _

__ectoBiologist  
i don’t have a crush on him! DX_ _

____carcinoGeneticist  
JOHN. I DID NOT CONSUME ANY ALCOHOL LAST NIGHT. ONCE YOU STOPPED HARASSING ME ABOUT HIM YOUR EYES NEVER LEFT HIS ASS AND YOU KEPT SIGHING WISTFULLY.  
TRUST ME. I KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.  
IF YOU DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON THAT SHIT FONDLING ASSLORD I WILL LITERALLY EAT MY SHOES. 

____ectoBiologist  
well better start researching how to cook shoes because i do NOT have a crush.  
he’s just… weird. and interesting! like seriously i think he’s one of the strangest people i have ever come across and that’s saying a lot considering i’m friends with you, you assbutt. 

__carcinoGeneticist  
WOW REAL MATURE._ _

__ectoBiologist  
did jade tell you how he keeps bringing skulls into the coffee shop to instagram his coffee with??_ _

__carcinoGeneticist  
YES EGBERT. I WAS THERE FOR ONE OF THESE DELIGHTFUL CONVERSATIONS._ _

____ectoBiologist  
like who even does that??? that’s really weird.  
also gross. i do not need to know about that stuff DX 

__carcinoGeneticist  
I NEVER SAID WE WERE DOING ANYTHING YOU SICKO._ _

__ectoBiologist  
look, i know my sister. odds are you were doing something._ _

____carcinoGeneticist  
JOHN.  
JOHN, LISTEN TO ME VERY CLOSELY. WHAT I AM ABOUT TO SAY IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE.  
SHUT THE FUCK UP. 

__ectoBiologist  
eheheheheh_ _

__carcinoGeneticist  
NO SERIOUSLY. GREASE THAT PAIR OF CELLS YOU CALL A BRAIN AND FUCKING THINK FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE._ _

____ectoBiologist  
but there’s not really much to think about. i don’t have a crush on him. i’ve never even TALKED to him, okay?  
so there. no crush, end of story. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not on hiatus or abandoned or anything just... pokemon :I

===>

“John, right?”

You practically jump out of your skin, smacking your elbows against your designated coffee shop chair. Skulldude is actually standing right in front of you. Skulldude is actually _talking_ to you? What even is this? He sucks one of his lip rings between his teeth, raising an eyebrow. You nod and he flops into the armchair across from you.

“Thought so but I ended up super trashed last time we were introduced. Figured double checking wouldn’t be a bad idea,” he shoots you a small grin and then he asks, “You actually call me Skulldude?”

You immediately sputter, “No!” even though it’s a total lie. Jade came up with the name but you totally adopted it.

“No, dude, I don’t give a shit. It’s a pretty rad nickname. Pretty accurate too, like, dead things are sort of my forte, you know?”

You gape at him and he coughs awkwardly, glancing away. Then you bust up laughing. You can’t help it! You figured he was weird, considering the skull thing, but he is really, _really_ weird, wow. He gives you a dirty look, taking a dainty sip from his coffee while you continue to snicker.

“Gee, what an ego booster,” he deadpans. His completely neutral expression sets you off again, sputtering with giggles.

“I’m sorry!” you wheeze, “That wasn’t even really that funny, I just. Wow, you’re weird!”

“Thanks bro, real flattered you think so.”

You giggle again, leaning forward to offer your hand; “John. Nice to officially meet you.”

“Dave,” he says, taking it. His hand is cool and dry, his long, slender fingers calloused. “Likewise.”

There’s a couple of moments of awkward silence after you sit back. He sucks on one of his lip rings again, thumb running over the rim of his cup. You lick your lips and say, “So, uh. Dead things, huh?”

He perks up at that, grinning a little, and it’s disgustingly adorable. Like seriously. You’ve seen Bec do the same thing if you so much as mention anything even remotely similar to the word “treat”.

Dave sets his coffee down on the table between you so he can drag his bag into his lap. You recognize the wooden box he pulls out. It’s the same one he always brings, and when he opens it, you’re not surprised to see one of his skulls wedged in there with tissue paper.

“This is Hugo,” he says, somehow materializing a… wet wipe? He scrubs his hands clean before picking the skull up. It fills his entire palm and then some. “He’s a possum.”

“That looks nothing like a possum.”

Dave laughs, “Yeah, most animal skulls look nothing like their live counterparts. You know how cute owl faces are? Freaking nightmare fuel as skulls, not even joking. No mistaking it for anything but a raptor.”

You apparently look as confused as you feel because he snickers again, glancing away as he sets Hugo back in the box. You end up kind of distracted when he arches his back, squirming to reach into his pocket, but it’s the unexpected not-skin colour that catches your eye, really! You can’t tell what he has tattooed across his belly just from the strip shown from his shirt riding up; it’s all dark colours spanning from hipbone to hipbone as far as you can tell, ink dipping down below the waistband of his boxers.

When he hunches back down over his iphone, his shirt stays caught on the top of his hips. He pokes at his lip ring -- the other one this time -- with his tongue as he types. And then he steps over the table in one totally smooth motion, hardly even phased by it, and squats next to your chair. He practically leans into your lap to hold his phone out in front of both of you.

“Okay, what the hell is that?”

“An owl skull.”

“That looks nothing like an owl.”

“Told you.”

His shoulder just barely brushes against your arm as he laughs silently, flicking through pictures to show you various different bird skulls. He’s totally right; the owl skull looks way more like a falcon than it does an owl.

“I think I might actually have nightmares now, thanks,” you tell him, “The eyeball bone thing is creepy as shit. What even is that?”

This close, you can hear his lip rings click against his teeth when he grins; “Scleral bones. You see them a lot in animals with huge ass eyes or weird eyeball shapes.”

“There’s different eyeball shapes?!” you balk, “That is so gross!”

“Shall I introduce you to the world of bacula then?”

The way he smirks up at you, wiggling his eyebrows obscenely, makes you think you probably don’t want to know what he’s talking about.

===>

turntechGodhead  
so that dude at the bar last night is totes more than a pretty face

tentacleTherapist  
Amazing. Who would have thought that not all attractive people are brainless morons?  
I assumed you would have picked up on this already, dear brother, considering our lineage and the sorts of people we attract.

turntechGodhead  
yo vain much jesus rose  
turn that ego down a notch youre throwing off my groove

tentacleTherapist  
I’d ask if that’s an intentional reference to The Emperor's New Groove, but I am entirely confident it was.  
Anyways, you actually talked to him? Did you secure yourself a new model?

turntechGodhead  
yeah totes sis just waltzed up and was like yo youre a really attractive lumberjack let me spirit you away to take naked photos

tentacleTherapist  
You know, I would not be surprised if that was what you actually did. You are occasionally completely abysmal at tactfully making such advances.

turntechGodhead  
only occasionally? why rose you flatter me i woulda thought youd say always

tentacleTherapist  
I think your innate charm and pretty face subconsciously convinces people to overlook such flaws.  
By which I mean I bet most people don’t take such things from you seriously, because you are a tremendous dork.

turntechGodhead  
says the nerd who reads textbooks for fun

tentacleTherapist  
What can I say? I’ve a mighty need.

turntechGodhead  
yo as long as you don’t start stealing organs i think were good  
but anyways yeah this dude is stupid pretty and talked skulls with me it was fucking rad  
i think im in love

tentacleTherapist  
You don’t say?

turntechGodhead  
not like literally jesus we talked for like two hours today and thats it

tentacleTherapist  
But?

turntechGodhead  
…….  
bit of a squish going  
maybe  
totes cool with just friendship though especially if i can actually get him to model for me  
thatd be awesome  
and its nice to hang out with an actual guy who isnt  
you know  
eridan  
idek how i managed it but everyone i know is lesbians like wow seriously  
surrounded by all this girl on girl action like im in a fucking tatu mv  
malchik gey all up in this biznasty like wow holy shit you can be the dykey brunette and kan is the redhead and theres all these school girls in the rain kissing through the chainlink fence  
which is so not sanitary like wow dudes gross  
except in waltzes this kawaii lumberjack and im like shit dog wheres your bison  
is it a bison  
fucking american legends yo how do they even  
hold on imma google this  
ox okay  
youd think itd be bison considering the whole b alliteration thing  
babe the blue bison sounds way better than babe the blue ox but whatev  
did you know that theres a freaking b horror flick with paul bunyan as the bad guy  
it was so fucking bad holy shit  
like wow it was literally painful like a trainwreck you just couldnt look away  
i was left with so many questions like why is paul bunyan a semi immortal dude with downs like wow thats eight kinds of fucked up way to not be politically correct guys  
and why did all the rednecks have semi auto rifles like arent those illegal why are they using them in front of the fucking sheriff jesus christ

tentacleTherapist  
Your efforts towards deflecting your “minor” interest in this person are absolutely hilarious. I am incredibly amused by your choice in t.A.T.u. songs to reference, but I suppose I can play along.  
Do tell, what’s the name of this movie?

turntechGodhead  
well arent you magnanimous  
its axe something or other : wrath of paul bunyan  
axe giant maybe idek i think i blocked the memories of it  
its on netflix though

===>

The next day he’s there in your usual spot, even though he never comes in on Tuesdays. You drop into the chair he sat in yesterday with a disgruntled sigh, mock glaring at him. 

“What are you doing in my spot?” you tease.

He shrugs; “Had the day off.”

“Wait you have a job?”

“Yes, I have a job. I’m not some freeloading college student,” he rolls his eyes and you make an affronted noise, which makes him grin, “Been pestering Karkles about you.”

“And he actually _told_ you stuff? What an asshole.” You can only hope Karkat failed to mention the crush you so totally don’t have.

“Mm-hm. Figured you would have realized he’s an asshole already, considering he’s dating your sister.”

You make a face, “Yeah, no. I’ve always known he’s an asshole, but gossiping behind my back? Wow, rude.”

“Yeah, shoulda had that one figured out by now too.”

Slumping in your chair, you groan, “I totally get the full depth and scope of Karkat’s assitude. He is the assiest.”

“Dude, that’s not even a word.”

“No it is so totally a word. You look it up in the dictionary and you see a picture of Karkat right next to it.”

Dave tries to hold back a smile and yep, you were so totally right. He has dimples. He also utterly fails at not grinning, nodding as he concedes your point.

===>

Over the next two weeks you’re introduced to half a dozen new skulls. Dave named each one and he handles them with utmost care. You’ve never seen someone so fond of dead things.

When you tell him this he snickers, “You shoulda seen me’n Aradia back when we were kids. Corpse parties were a thing.”

===>

“Okay, wait, how many skulls do you even have?” you ask Dave after he shows you yet another one.

“Somewhere around ninety, I think?” His eyebrows squinch together as he says it, like he’s thinking really hard. You gawk at him, which makes him snicker, “Aradia and I both collect them so that’s all together. Most of them are pretty small, like mice and shit.”

“That’s still a lot, holy shit.”

“Yeah. And that’s just skulls. Thinking we’ve somewhere around three thousand bones total.” He settles back in his chair, legs splayed wide and wrists dangling off the arms, smirking like he’s super pleased to be showing off. Which he probably is, the weirdo.

You deadpan, “Your entire house must be nothing but bones.”

“Yeah, basically,” he laughs in return.

===>

“So why do you,” you gesture aimlessly, “with the whole wet wipe thing?”

“Real descriptive there, John.”

“I mean, just. Shut up you know what I mean!”

He laughs and ducks his head to hide his grin, but you still see his dimples. You flick a balled up straw wrapper at him with the frowniest of frowny faces. It hits him square in the gut and he picks it up with two of his long fingers, flicking it back at you.

“Skin oils can stain bones,” he tells you simply, shrugging, “so you wanna have clean hands when you handle them.”

===>

Dave has his feet propped up on the table, slouched low in his armchair as he studies something on his e-reader. You will never stop being amused at the super girly pastel case he has it in, but you’ve learned not to tease him about it. It’s apparently a painting of his best friend done by a local artist and you may not be super artsy fartsy like him, but you can totally respect that. And it’s a nice painting, you guess, even if it’s not really your sort of thing.

You’ve been sitting here with him pretty much all day and it’s sort of weird to think that you’ve already gotten to that point in friendship where you don’t actually have to talk. When you stretch and groan, “Ugh, man I am so hungry,” you think it’s the first thing you’ve said in like, four hours.

Dave lets his e-reader flop back against his knees, fixing you with a blank look over it. You have come to realize that that’s his contemplative face. After a second he says, “Yeah. You know what totally sounds good right now? Freaking thai food.”

“Oh, huh. Never tried it.” You laugh a little as he stares at you, his eyebrows drawn down in a frown. “What?”

“Okay no, pack your shit, we’re going to Jai Thai.”

He shoves his e-reader back in his bag, standing to dig his phone out of his pocket while you follow his lead. Somehow, you manage to be ready to go before him. You half watch him layer up, unrolling the sleeves of his overshirt to tuck them smoothly into the sleeves of his his hoodie, the cuffs of which get fisted as he slides into his jacket. His long, pale fingers look even paler wrapped around dusty red cotton and you’re amazed that he found a hoodie with sleeves long enough to reach his knuckles.

You ask him about it as he zips it up, and he laughs, “It was actually Aradia’s. Only one I’ve ever found with long enough sleeves that I don’t also swim in.”

The cuffs of his peacoat crawl halfway up his forearm when he reaches up to pop his collar. The two of you step out into the cold and you bite your lip before you ask, “Why not go to a tailor?”

“For a hoodie?” he snorts, “Naw. Apparently my sister’s other half is making me a custom jacket for Christmas but I think it’s gonna be another one of these.” He tugs at the lapels of his jacket and wiggles his eyebrows at you, “Hopin’ it’s cut to flatter my curves, you know?”

“Flatter your curves is right,” you snicker, “‘cause whatever so called curves you’ve got sure are flat.”

He lets out a surprisingly loud bark of laughter, elbowing you in the ribs. “Wow you’re an asshole.”

“Well, it’s true! I’ve seen planks of wood with more curve than you.”

“Yo, don’t be hating on my good looks. You might break my poor, fragile heart, leaving me to gorge myself on pad thai and ice cream. Is that what you want?”

You eye him critically, considering your retort. He’s schooled his face into something flatly sarcastic, but the corners of his mouth turn up a bit, betraying his amusement, so you say, “Well, if it’s curves you want, I’m sure a steady diet of ice cream’ll help.”

His shoulders shake with silent laughter, his face turning pink with the force of his giggles. Half a block down Broadway, he finally manages to catch his breath, wheezing, “You are ridiculous, holy fuck.”

“Says the weirdo who has a billion pets that are all dead.”

That sets him off again, and he wheezes for another three blocks.

You’re just starting to worry about his raspy breathing when he grabs your arm and pulls you across the street in a direction you were not expecting.

“Jeeze, pay attention bro,” he teases, his hand lingering on your arm a little longer than you should probably be comfortable with. You don’t actually mind. You’ve already figured out that Dave does not much concern himself with personal space things, considering how much he leans in against you while showing you things on his phone and shit.

The restaurant he takes you to in a totally heterosexual, broship way seems sort of strangely fancy for Capitol Hill, though you’ve never actually been down this part of Broadway. He gets a table for three (????) and takes the chair across from you when you sit. You busy yourself with the menu, suddenly nervous for absolutely no discernible reason.

A couple minutes later, you and Dave are joined by a busty, dark haired girl with a wide grin.

“Hi John,” she says to you before she turns to Dave, “So Eridan and his brothers have officially completed their obligatory dick measuring contest. Fef’s bullied them into letting us have the leftovers.”

You assume this is Aradia; she and Dave fistbump over their apparently rad acquisition.

“Sweet. What’d they get this year?” Dave asks.

“Two deer and a cougar. Already in our rot pit and everything too!”

“Rad.”

You wrinkle your nose -- “rot pit”, gross -- which makes Dave grin.

“If you think the rot pit is gross, wait ‘til you smell the aftermath of maceration,” he practically sings, way too fucking chipper about rotting flesh. You continue to make faces, which makes both of them laugh.

“Ugh, no thanks, I’d really enjoy being able to eat you know.”

And do you. Holy fuck, do you. They order their usual assortment of things for sharing and it’s all fucking delicious. You leave no leftovers.

===>

You go back to The Unicorn with Dave and Aradia that following Friday. It’s packed and you laugh at Dave’s constant choice in bitchy girly drinks. You have no idea how he manages to order Unicorn Jizz with a straight face, but he does.

You’re also not sure how he manages to win at the Back to the Future pinball machine they have downstairs after three drinks.

===>

One day, Aradia ends up meeting you in your usual spot at the coffee shop. She settles into Dave’s chair, slipping her feet out of her shoes to tuck them under her.

“Dave went out to collect some of our new bones for final cleaning today. He’ll be here soon though!”

And sure enough, maybe ten minutes later, Dave bursts in, striding over. He drops down onto the couch next to you, immediately digging through his bag. 

“Okay, fucking _look_ at the size of this baculum,” he says, pulling out a tupperware container. Aradia _ooh_ s and leans forward while Dave worms his fingers into a pair of latex gloves. He pops the lid off the tupperware and you grimace because it’s full of _dead things_ , brown bones with bits of flesh still on them. He pulls one out in particular, slender and sort of s-shaped, brandishing it at Aradia.

She laughs, “Holy shit, that’s huge. That’s the raccoon, right?”

“It’s from a god damned raccoon,” he drops the bone back with the rest, peeling the gloves off, “I feel like I should be jealous. Fucking thing had a dong like a whale.”

You choke on a mouthful of coffee, sinuses burning when you gasp,”What?”

Dave just about pees himself laughing at the face you make when Aradia tells you, “Bacula are dick bones.”

===>

You get well acquainted with most of the drinks off the Unicorn’s menu. You also learn to not try and outdrink Dave and that you absolutely suck at doing dropshots. On more than one occasion you are _really_ glad you live so close.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> being a real adult is haaaaaaard ;o;

===>

You think it might be a little weird inviting Dave over to chill at your apartment instead of hanging out in the coffee shop, but he just texts you back with a sweet sounds good ill hit you up after work. It’s definitely weird going directly home after your classes. You space out and miss the stop right outside your building, ending up all the way down on Broadway before you realize what happened. It’s only one stop, but still!

Dave is already outside, leaning against the wall by the side door. He flicks his fingers towards the traffic, raising an eyebrow as he asks, “Was that..?”

You flush, scowling, and he totally connects the bus that just passed with the bus that you were on because they were totally the same and now you feel even more lame about missing your stop than you did before. He snickers and you get the door open, sulking your way inside.

“Wow, shit. I think this is the scoobiest of Scooby Doo houses I’ve ever been in.”

You doubletake as you lead him up the stairs to your floor; “What?”

“Like, the creepy, huge houses in Scooby Doo episodes? This is so totally a Scooby Doo house.”

He is sort of completely right. Your building is also an old mansion that was renovated into apartments, with hallways that go in strange directions and stairs that creak. Pretty weird is an accurate way to describe it.

“It totally is, isn’t it?” you agree as you dig your keys out of your pocket. You have to jiggle them in the lock a little to get your door open. Dave peeks around you when you do get the door open, unabashedly looking around.

“Dude, this is a fucking sweet little apartment.”

“Wow, you think so?” You say; you’re a little taken aback. Usually the first thing everyone has said about your apartment has been “it’s so small”. It’s like a reverse TARDIS.

He steps up the ladder a couple of rungs, looking past the curtain you put up to wall off your bed as he says, “Yeah, this is rad as hell.” He leans back, back arched, hands holding on to the edge of your loft, “Looks cozy as shit up here.”

You laugh, “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. I’m a little worried about how cold it’s gonna get in the winter but I’ve got a space heater so I should be alright.”

Dave hops down, continuing to poke around like the nosy creep he is.

“No, dude, I feel you. Ours is in the basement and it ends up freezing and yet somehow, I still manage to forget to pick up a heater before they sell out.”

“You should probably do that.”

“Yeah,” he drops onto your couch, splayed out so he takes up pretty much the entire thing, “Probably.”

“So uh -- “ fuck, “ -- what do you want to do?” You lean back against your counter since he’s taking up basically your entire couch. He shrugs, touching one of his lip rings with his tongue, and you squint at him. You’ve noticed he does that _a lot_ , so you ask, “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Licking your lip rings. It’s weird.”

“Oh,” he laughs, two little _hah hah_ s as he swipes his tongue across his entire bottom lip, slowly, a half smile blooming with the action. “Don’t even notice myself doing that. Still getting used to them I guess. They’re pretty new.”

“Oh, um. When’d you get them then?”

He laughs louder at that, his small smile growing into a full out grin; “What is this, twenty questions?”

“No! Well, I mean, I guess,” you shrug, your face heating up, “If you want to.”

Dave smirks at you, fixing you with a stare behind his sunglasses. One eyebrow quirks up over the edge and his dimples make an appearance. “Switched out the jewelry for rings end of August. Got them pierced May-ish. Who’s older, you or your sister.”

Oh. This is actually a thing? Huh.

“Jade, by like a year and a half. Was that girl at the bar your sister?”

“Yup. Actually my twin too. What are you in uni for?”

“Bio-chem. Uh, what’s your job?”

“Crumpet strumpet,” he says with a completely neutral face. You stare at him completely bewildered until he shrugs, “I make crumpets.”

“Okay, no, what the fuck is a crumpet and why are you its strumpet?”

He laughs, his whole body swaying with the force of his grin; “Crumpets are like, these pancake things. They’re fuckin’ delicious, I’ll bring you some.”

You stare at him skeptically. He shakes his head slowly, dimples out in full force. It’s kind of hilarious how cute he can be.

“So how do you know Karkat?” you ask, even though it’s totally not your turn.

He gives you a dirty look, but answers, “We went to high school together. Actually both dated Terezi.”

“Gross,” you wrinkle your nose.

“Yeah. Whatever. How do _you_ know Karkat?”

“Had a couple English classes together. Uh,” you huff a little laugh, grinning, “Favourite starter?”

“What gen?”

It’s the start of a beautiful conversation. He beats your score in Pokemon Snap on your Wii and laughs at you when you try to insist that your score on your N64 version is better anyway.

===>

turntechGodhead  
john  
john  
yo john  
john open the door  
john open the door its raining  
dont be a dick john  
i brought you crumpets john  
john

You laugh the entire way down the hall as Dave blows up your phone. You can see him continuing to text you through the side door’s window, hunched around his phone to keep it covered from the rain. He jumps a little when you open the door, blinking at you over the rim of his sunglasses.

“Jeeze, Dave, way to be patient,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes at you, nudging his glasses back up his face. There’s a moment where all you can smell is him and rain as he brushes past you, stepping into the building. You let the door close on its own. He heads up the stairs to your apartment ahead of you, saying, “Sorry, all my patience was used up during my Jedi training.”

You laugh, “Yeah, sure Dave.”

“Naw, it’s fuckin’ true. Yoda got all up in my grill on that shit.”

“No dude, I _totally_ believe you,” you snicker, “How could I not. You’re like, the epitome of a Jedi.”

“Damn straight.”

He lets you pass him so you can open your door, though you don’t know why. It’s not like you locked it or anything since you were just down the stairs; you didn’t even bother putting on shoes! But he does let you go in first, following right on your heels. As soon as he’s inside, he strips down, folding his jackets over one of the rungs on your ladder up the loft. His bag is still across his shoulder, hanging at his hip.

“Did you really wear your coat over your bag?”

“Yeah?” he shrugs, “It’s not waterproof.”

“But it’s not even raining that hard!”

Dave stares at you blankly while he pulls the strap over his head. It catches some of his hair, messing up the back, and you try your best not to snicker at his new cowlicks. From out of his bag he pulls two beige.. puck things.

“May I present,” he says, bowing with a flourish, “crumpets.”

“Those don’t look nearly as spectacular as you made them out to be.”

“Yeah, well, let me do my thing and I’ll blow your mind.”

“Sure Dave. Go ahead. Blow my mind.”

You flop across your couch and he wiggles his eyebrows at you, crumpets in one hand while he reaches up for one of your plates and… he does his thing. The crumpets go into oven and like, four jars of things appear from the depths of his bag. They clink against each other as he lines them up neatly along the edge of your sink. He keeps his back to you after he takes the crumpets out of your oven, spoons clinking against the sides of the jars.

And then he hands you a plate. Your crumpet is piled high with cheese and and sun dried tomatoes and… pesto? and you think there’s ham in there too.

“Wow, holy shit.”

Dave kicks the crate you keep moving around your floor in front of your dresser, settling down on it with his own crumpet. You very carefully pick up one half and take a bite while Dave smirks smugly.

You’re pretty sure you melt into your couch. The way you moan at how frigging _delicious_ this thing is can be described as nothing less than pornographic. Holy shit this is amazing. It’s like a party in your mouth. A really pretentious party that’s also still awesome.

“Fuckin’ told you,” Dave says.

===>

For once, you’re the one following Dave home, hopping a bus down a block from the coffee shop to keep out of the rain. Except Dave does not live right on a bus line. He lives a couple of blocks in and he bitches about the rain the entire walk.

“Did you just move out here?” you ask him, laughing. He scowls at you, shifting his shoulders to keep his damp collar away from his skin.

“Been here since second grade, thanks.”

You laugh harder, “Wow, and you’re _still_ whining about getting wet?”

He turns towards a building, climbing a flight of stairs to get to the door and grumbling, “Yeah, laugh it up chuckles.” Key goes in the lock and the door opens. You duck under his arm to beat him inside and he sighs, “I’m cool with the rain, I’m just not huge on being _in_ the rain.”

You let him lead you deeper into the bowels of his building, kind of literally, ‘cause he takes you down a flight and a half of stairs into the basement and down a long hall, which connects to yet another hall.

“Wow, this building is huge!”

Dave snorts, “Yeah, but at least it makes sense,” as he stops at a door and inserts another key. The door swings open and Dave gets halfway through before a voice drifts out.

“Wow, Dave. You look like a drowned rat.”

You snicker -- he totally does -- as Dave scoffs, “Thanks, ‘Radia, love you too.”

Their apartment is way bigger than yours and painted (really shittily, you might add) red and black, but you can’t actually see much of the walls behind the mass of framed pictures and stacks of bookshelves. The bookshelves are filled with bones. That you expected.

The photos are largely of naked people.

You gawk as you follow Dave into the main space. You’re dimly aware of Dave stripping off his jacket just out of your field of vision.

“Fuck me, I’m wetter ‘n a nympho at a nude beach, jesus christ.”

You round on Dave with a stunned, “What?” just in time to see him stalk off to the bathroom. Aradia cackles from the doorway to her bedroom.

“If you think that was bad, you shoulda heard him bitching over summer,” she says, grin bright and wide. “What was that thing about Satan’s asshole?”

From the bathroom, Dave supplies, “Hotter ‘n Satan’s fiery asshole after some bad Taco Bell.”

“I now understand how you and Karkat are friends.”

Dave’s laughter echoes in the bathroom along with the sound of wet jeans being slapped against a tub. You turn back to gawking at the photos covering the walls. Aradia sidles up to you and points to one of the bigger ones, a couple making out on a bed in black and white, cropped just above their jaws. Both of them are topless and both of them have big tattoos -- the dude with wings across his shoulders and arms, the girl with a ram skull on her chest. It’s uncomfortably intimate to look at.

“That one,” she says, “Dave had in the Seattle Erotic Arts Festival. Two years ago, I think.”

You think if you could both blanch _and_ blush, that’s what you’d be doing. You figure blood won out over no-blood because you can feel your face heat up anyways as you squawk, “That’s Dave?”

“Yes, no,” Aradia laughs, “He’s the photographer but yeah, he’s the male model in there too.”

You turn back to stare in horror at the picture. You did not need to see evidence of your friend macking on a pretty girl, especially not with his hand on her tit and his thigh between hers. That is just really, _really_ uncomfortable.

Although you must admit, it is a really nice photo.

Dave’s arm comes out over your shoulder, right past your ear, to point at a different photo. You feel his breath ghost against the back of your neck when he says, “That is my favourite self-portrait. Think I really captured my essence there.”

The picture in question is also black and white; a pair of bony hands clasp a skull, fingers dipping into the eye sockets. It’s held just in front of a dude’s --- in front of _Dave’s_ crotch. But oh look. You totally get to see what his other tattoo looks like. Wow, that’s a nice tattoo with the birds and the letters and stuff. You’re just going to look at the tattoo because otherwise you’ll basically be looking at your friend’s dick.

“It’s a picture of your dick,” you say flatly, lips pinched together. You are definitely blushing. You are blushing really, _really_ hard. Wow you did not need to become quite so well versed in Dave’s crotch.

“It’s not a picture of my dick, thanks, it’s implied nudity. _Art_. Completely different,” Dave teases, wandering out from behind you. You look at him to find he’s now in his underwear. Yep, his tattoos are totally cool. You are just going to observe how nice the, the gears? down his spine are. Your gaze totally doesn’t follow those gears down to his ass. You _really_ don’t look at his ass when he bends over to dig through a pile of laundry.

You don’t look back at the walls either, especially since you now realize a lot of the the pictures plastered across them are of Dave and a _lot_ of them are of Dave naked.

And then, _and then_ , as Dave pulls on pants and sits down, you realize his _bed_ is out here. In the living room. Dave’s living room is also his bedroom and the walls are covered in naked pictures of _himself_ and... the only place to sit.

Is on his bed.

(Once you actually get over the weirdness that comes with being in Dave’s bed with him while also surrounded with naked pictures _of_ him, you have a lot of fun hanging out over there. He’s cool, Aradia’s cool, their apartment is cool and their tv is also way bigger than yours.)

===>

You find that, if you sit facing the wall with the kitchen and bathroom at Dave’s apartment, your eyes are not automatically drawn to various pictures. Of him. Naked. Nope, not at all. See, while also covered in framed pictures, this wall does not have a single naked Dave. It’s all drawings instead. Lots and lots of drawings and paintings. The one that is on Dave’s e-reader makes another appearance, dominating the wall. You totally now recognize Aradia as the model, and you pick up on which of the other paintings are done by the same person.

When you stay facing _that_ wall, you find you aren’t bothered by all the naked Daves you know are behind you.

===>

You’re sitting on the floor, back leaned up against Dave’s bed while you play video games. You had to leave your N64 at home since it’s also technically your sister’s, but he has one too and he’s absolutely slaughtering you in Mario Kart. It’s okay though, you guess. He ends up with this huge, goofy grin when he teases you over being a sore loser.

Aradia comes home while you’re rolling around, groaning over your latest loss -- you blame being out of practice!!! -- and she’s not alone. You look up to see another girl, tall and slender like Dave with waist length russet hair and a cheery grin, step over your outstretched limbs, carrying an armful of grocery bags into the kitchen. Dave perks up and he steps over you too, following her.

“So what’d you bring us this time, Fef?” he asks, leaning against the archway into the kitchen. His back is to you and he’s shirtless again, the black feathers all across his shoulders catching your eye as usual. For all his complaining about the cold, he spends a lot of time mostly naked, wrapped up in blankets.

“The usual. Aradia said you guys were almost out of quinoa so I got some more and now I really want it for dinner so guess what you’re cooking!”

Aradia snickers as she walks past you, passing Dave her armload of bags.

“Yo, I’m down,” he says, “You got stuff for it?”

“Yep! Broth and fresh veggies mostly, but we also picked up some feta for your half.”

“Sweet.”

You have no idea what they’re talking about, besides the fact that it’s food. Homemade food. Food that will not come from a can or a box. Food that is not delivered. You do the same thing Bec does when it’s dinner time, slowly creeping over to the kitchen like if you don’t bring attention to yourself they’ll let you eat all you want.

Oh god you miss home cooked meals. You should really go home for the weekend.

People shuffle around and Aradia and Fef (???) leave the kitchen. Dave turns to you, except you think he’s expecting you to be over by his bed instead of pretty much directly underfoot. He looks down at you, suddenly wearing one of those really weird muscled, naked dude chest aprons over his own lean, naked dude chest, which makes it doubly ridiculous.

“You wanna stay for dinner too?” he asks.

You give him your best puppy dog eyes; “Can I?”

===>

Oh fuck, John’s being adorable. There’s no way you can deny him dinner now even if you wanted to. You shrug and turn back to your kitchen, setting your shades on their shelf. “Yeah, sure. I cook for an army anyway so it’s not like there won’t be enough.”

You see him fall back against the floor reflected in your microwave, pumping his fist into the air like he just managed something amazing (like beating you in Mario Kart). It’s fucking adorable, holy shit. You’ve got it so bad for this dork.

And so you break out your cooking A-game. What team, fucking Wildcats, except no because fuck that shit. You’re going to cook like you’re facing Gordon Ramsay.

Fuck, you are flipping your shit so hard. You’re more jittery than when you first let him into your apartment where he faced a wall basically dedicated to your ego and your dick and all you’re doing is making fucking dinner, jesus christ. You’ve made this dish a million times before; olive oil to fry the quinoa, broth to boil it in. Sun dried tomatoes because you’re a fancy motherfucker and half a dozen kinds of fresh, organic vegetables because your bestie is dating a rich vegan white girl who’s a little overbearing, bless her soul.

Oh god, what if he doesn’t like it? Quinoa is fucking weird. You mean, you assume he comes from a pretty well off family since his dad is paying for college and all his living expenses but it’s, it’s rich vegan white girl food. It’s delicious, yeah, and you’re a fucking god when it comes to cooking it but.

It’s weird. And it sort of cooks into this nasty brown. The vegetables totally balance it, along with the feta you’ll put in after portioning out some for Feferi, bright spots of orange and green and red and white for visual interested but…

You’re agonizing over fucking _food_ and it’s the stupidest goddamned thing. John basically subsists off of coffee and spaghettios. Anything you cook will be fine. You can totally stop chopping carrots like they killed your mother.

Aradia pops in, taking up the entire archway, hip cocked out to one side, shoulder against the wall to the other, arms folded up under her breasts. She gives you A Look, one you totally recognize as something ganked from Rose, as she asks, “Everything okay?”

You turn back to your vigorous chopping, carrots and celery perfect diagonal slivers, and mumble, “Yeah, we’re golden.”

She just laughs at you, teasing, “Oh, you’re showing off, aren’t you.”

You bean her in the collarbone with a celery top. It bounces off to land on her tit-shelf until the force of her giggling causes it to fall to the floor.

And in the end you really didn’t have anything to worry about. John practically groans in ecstasy as you pass him a bowl of your fancy not-quite-vegan-anymore concoction. It’s gone in a flash and he goes back for seconds. When he’s finally full, he flops belly down across your bed, curled around your back.

“Oh man, Dave,” he moans, “That was so delicious. Please marry me Dave. You can live in my closet and cook me delicious food all the time.”

He actually wraps an arm around your waist and _cuddles_ , holy shit. You freeze, spoon halfway to your burning face while Fef and Aradia laugh their asses off.

===>

You’re totally not sure when it happened but you are completely unphased by Dave in your personal space. It’s probably been a bit of a gradual thing, since he’s… well, not touchy feely exactly but… maybe a little oblivious? But it’s like, when he cooked for you the dams broke and you touch like you’ve known each other for ages. You don’t even mind when he sits sideways on your couch, legs draped over your lap and ass wedged against your thigh. It’s not a big deal in the least and, more importantly, it’s _warm_.

Even though your building is old and kind of drafty, it never gets _too_ cold in your apartment. You’re on the second floor and Jade made absolutely sure you had a space heater just in case so it stays pretty okay but having Dave draped over you? It’s really nice. Nothing can beat body heat. It’s so comfortable! You don’t even notice how late it is until you look over to see Dave asleep sitting up, head drooped so his chin rests against his chest. Light from your tv flickers, highlighting half his face and glinting off his piercings. You check your watch and are stunned to find it’s just past two. You don’t even feel that tired!

Dave jerks awake as soon as you lean in to touch his shoulder, blinking blearily at you. You give him an awkward, apologetic smile in return.

“Sorry. I uh, wasn’t really paying attention to the time. It’s like, two.”

He lets his head fall back against the wall, sighing, “Fuck, really?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you shrug. He flings his legs to the floor, sitting up properly, palm over his mouth to hide a yawn. You bite the inside of your cheek and then say, “You could crash here if you like? Since it’s really late.”

Seeing his eyebrows raise without the blockade of his sunglasses is kind of weird. He looks genuinely surprised at your offer, eyes a little wide, lips parted just slightly. You shrug again and he leans back, relaxing into your couch again.

“Yeah, that’d probs be better. Bit of a long walk at this point.”

His apartment isn’t _that_ far away from yours, but without buses running, it’s definitely an uncomfortably long hike. You watch him wedge himself back against the arm of your couch, arms folded across his stomach, chin dipping down to touch his chest again. He has a ridiculous amount of eyelashes and the light from your tv has them casting long, spiky shadows across his cheeks.

“I have a sleeping bag around here somewhere but, um,” you swallow, “my bed’s pretty big so…”

Oh god why did you say that?

Dave peels his eyes back open, leveling you with a tired, blank stare as he says, “Why, John, I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Dave! Gosh!” you snicker, “Not like that you weirdo. It’s just, might as well. I’m not going to be rude and make you sleep on the floor after all!”

“What a gentleman.”

You nudge him with your knee, grinning. “Did you wanna borrow some pj’s or something?”

“Want me in your pants _and_ your bed, hm?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning in, one arm across the back of the couch.

“Pervert,” you laugh, “Maybe I just don’t want to be subjected to your hairy chicken legs.”

“Pft, I’ll have you know that my leg hair is soft and downy like a baby panda.”

You actually fall off the couch laughing at that, sliding straight to the floor as you curl in on yourself, gasping for breath. Dave still manages to sit primly even as he yawns again. You strip off your shirt and throw it at his face, grinning as you stand to shimmy out of your jeans.

It occurs to you when you’re bent at the waist, pants already at your knees that, yep, you are totally undressing in front of Dave. You swallow hard and there’s this moment when you glance up at him where he just _looks_ at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You don’t know if it’s wishful thinking or what but you swear to god he’s actually checking you out.

You sort of stumble into one of the posts holding your loft up as you yank one foot out of your jeans. There’s absolutely no way you aren’t blushing; you can feel how hot your face has gotten, your heart pounding against your ribs. You have to turn away when he starts undressing as well, pulling on a pair of pj pants even though you don’t ever actually sleep in them. 

It’s really dumb how embarrassed you are! It’s not like you haven’t seen Dave get undressed a million times before. He has negative shame or maybe just really great self esteem but either way, half the time you’ve gone to his house with him, he strips as soon as he’s inside. You guess maybe him getting undressed in order to _sleep in your bed_ is what makes this particular situation so… awkward, but..!

Actually, you can’t think of any way to justify this. Wow, go you.

Dave doesn’t hesitate to follow you up the ladder to your loft though, his shoulder brushing yours as you untuck your covers. He squeezes past you to crawl in first, teeth chattering obnoxiously. Only when he has your blankets pulled up to his nose does he say, “Shoulda left my clothes on.”

You chuckle as you join him (!!!!!!), laying down a little closer to the middle than you think is comfortable, thanks to him commandeering the wall side; you haven’t fallen off your loft yet and you’d really rather not do so now. Besides, Dave’s doing a really good job of warming your bed up for you. Gravitating towards warmth is totally normal.

In the dark, he’s kind of stupidly pretty, the angles of his face accentuated by the street light filtering through your window, all deep shadow and soft yellows. He falls asleep in no time, one hand tucked under his chin, the other splayed out on the bed between you. You just lay there, trying not to freak out because you’re sharing your bed with a dude who is largely naked. You can hear him breathe, can almost _feel it_ against your skin, and your guts have twisted around themselves with nerves. 

At some point you guess you actually do fall asleep because then Dave is leaning over you, fully dressed again. You sort of expect him to kiss you, but he just whispers, “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, I gotta head out.”

You groan and roll over, wrapping yourself up in blankets that smell like him.

“No seriously,” he laughs breathily, “Crumpets wait for no man. Come lock the door after me, ‘kay?”

“Uuuugh, what time is it?”

“Like, a quarter to six. C’mon bro, can’t be late.”

You squirm your way out of the loving grasp of your bedding, grumbling the entire way down to your floor; “Slept for like two hours.”

“I get free coffee.” 

Dave smiles at you as he opens the door, already all layered up and ready to go. You frown. It’s not even six on a Saturday morning. He should still be up in your bed with you so you can wake up and continue watching shitty anime sometime around noon. But no. He has a job like a lame person. You watch him step into the hall, turning to head towards the stairs, and deadbolt your door with a sigh.

Your bed is still toasty warm when you climb back into it, collapsing face first into the spot Dave occupied. When you wake up with a raging boner sometime mid morning, you can still smell him on your sheets. You have to roll over to jerk off without feeling weird.

===>

turntechGodhead  
john is somehow the antithesis of a morning person like wow holy shit i have finally seen that boy scowl and it is the cutest shit ever  
especially with his ridiculous bedhead  
jfc what a cutie

apocalypseArisen  
i was wondering where you were last night

turntechGodhead  
yeah ended up watching the animes until a godawful hour so i just crashed there  
learned two things  
a he is adorably disgruntled first thing in the morning  
and b  
total hottie with a body holy fuck unf  
also be a doll and bring me my deodorant and a fresh shirt and shit on your way into psc please  
cant be stinking up the whole market you know

apocalypseArisen  
hahahah can do


	5. Chapter 5

===>

“So, John, huh?” Aradia drawls, her gaze never deviating from your toes, which she’s currently painting hot pink as part of your ironic bonding sleepover time. You sigh and let your arms collapse under you, dropping you onto your back across your bed.

“Don’t remind me,” you groan, throwing an arm across your eyes, “Cute straight boys with libidos are the bane of my existence.”

“So you really do have a thing for him?” she gives you a cheeky smirk.

You twist just enough to flutter your eyelashes at her past your legs, crooning, “He’s so dreamy,” with the cheesiest valley girl accent you can manage.

She laughs and tickles your foot, and you almost kick her in the face when you jerk away which only makes her laugh harder.

“I swear to dicks, ‘Radia, if you spill nail polish on my bed again I’m stealing your fuckin’ sheets.”

“Now, really. I don’t think you want to do that,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you, “It’s been full of beautiful, naked ladies recently.”

“Gross,” you sigh, “But yeah. Got some mad dokis going on. It’s kind of awful.”

===>

You go out with Dave and end up drinking _way_ too much, holy shit. Dave takes you home with him and, although you don’t quite remember his reasoning, you are so freaking glad. Sometime in the middle of the night you bolt out of his bed to puke and there’s no way you’d have been able to make it down from your loft if you were at home. You barely manage to make it to his bathroom before you spew. Dave follows right behind you with a glass of water, hand on your back while you hurl.

“You okay?” he asks when you’re done. You thump your forehead against the toilet seat and nod. He chuckles as he passes you the water, his other hand smoothing down your spine and drawing goosebumps across your skin. His palm is a lot warmer than usual. You chug your water, flustered by how intensely he’s watching you, and he ushers you back to bed when you’re done.

Back to _his_ bed.

You’re just sober enough to realize how uncomfortable you should be about this, but still fuzzy enough to conclude that you don’t care. Or rather, that you’re actually totally on board with the whole sharing-the-same-bed-while-in-your-underwear thing. Because Dave is attractive. Totally attractive, with his pretty face and slender body and gorgeous tattoos and ridiculous, glow-in-the-dark skeleton boxers.

You crawl in after him. It’s still warm under the covers and you pass out again practically the instant you close your eyes.

You wake up to Dave squawking, “Jesus fuck, that’s cold!” The arm you have wrapped around his waist automatically squeezes him tighter against you to keep him from wiggling so much, and you grumble disgruntledly against his shoulder.

It doesn’t help.

“Fuck, not you too John, jesus quit tag teaming me, you guys are assholes.”

Dave manages to squirm out of your grasp, rolling onto the floor with a thump. You burrow into his vacated spot and pull the covers over your head. They don’t muffle the awkwardly wet slap of plastic against skin, Dave’s whining, or Aradia’s snickers.

You prop yourself up far enough to glower at Dave and the package of…?

“Is that bacon?” you ask, incredulous. 

Aradia sits on the bed next to you, just barely missing your knees; “Yep. I demand pancakes.”

“Pancakes,” you roll over, propping yourself up on your elbows to have the optimal squinting position, “What does bacon have to do with pancakes?”

“Bacon pancakes,” Dave supplies from the floor, spread-eagled in just his underwear with a package of bacon on his chest. You flop back against the pillows with a groan.

“You guys are freaking weird.”

Dave just stands, dropping the bacon onto his bed next to you while he pulls on some actual clothes. You frown at him the entire time, largely because bacon _does not_ belong in the bed, but he just smirks and blows you a kiss as he saunters off into the kitchen. Leaving the bacon.

There’s some shuffling around in the kitchen and the sound of running water, and then he walks back out with a glass of water. You instantly forgive him when it turns out to be for you, along with a pair of aspirin; good Dave, best friend. You sit up to take it. He smiles at you before he turns away, headed back into the kitchen with the bacon.

Your stomach twists around on itself and you really hope you don’t have to puke again. You didn’t drink _quite_ that much. At least, you think you didn’t. 

Maybe you did.

“Did you want some coffee?” Aradia asks you, grinning like she’s trying not to laugh. You squint at her some more before you finally sigh, “You’re not going to let me go back to sleep, are you.”

“Nope,” Dave chimes in from the kitchen, smashing pans around a little more than necessary. Aradia raises her eyebrows and inclines her head towards the kitchen with a shrug. You flop back against the pillows with a groan, arms spread wide in total defeat.

“Fine.”

Aradia does laugh this time, jostling the bed as she hops up. You go to scowl at her as she joins Dave in the kitchen, only to have to quickly avert your eyes since she’s wearing just a t-shirt and underwear. Which reminds you, you should _probably_ actually put your own clothes back on.

You’re halfway into your shirt when Dave says, “Jesus, do you really have to keep ganking my clothes?”

“Yup,” Aradia laughs and your head clears the collar of your shirt just in time for you to watch her pull him down for a kiss. Your stomach drops and….

And you realize, you’re _jealous_.

You shove your glasses onto your face and pretend to be surprised by a not-actually-existent text on your phone.

“Shit, I totally forgot I promised to go have brunch with my dad,” you say, yanking on your jeans, “Jade’s already on her way to come pick me up so I gotta head home.”

For a second, Dave looks crestfallen. He also looks absolutely ridiculous -- and _gorgeous_ , oh god -- in a dingy old “Kiss the Cook” apron, coffee in one hand, a spatula in the other. Your heart _clenches_ and it takes way more effort than you expect to grin apologetically. He sucks his lip rings between his teeth as he shrugs and one eyebrow twitches up sarcastically when he says, “Yo, do what you gotta, but you’re gonna be missing out.”

You let out a relieved sigh and your smile slides into something way more genuine. “Yeah, sorry. Next time. I’ll text you, promise!”

You make it the dozen or so blocks to Broadway before you stop to catch your breath, your heart pounding from more than just your mad dash from your best friend’s apartment.

ectoBiologist  
jade  
jade help me  
jade it is eight in the morning and i am standing in the rain on a streetcorner having an existential crisis please answer your fucking phone!

gardenGnostic  
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST JOHN IT IS EIGHT IN THE MORNING ON A *SATURDAY*. EXISTENTIAL CRISIS OR NOT I’D LIKE TO SLEEP IN.

ectoBiologist  
well fuck you karkat this is kind of important!!

The light changes and you cross the street, headed homewards at a more sedate pace.

gardenGnostic  
sorry :( karkat is even more of a buttpain first thing in the morning than you are  
whats up???

ectoBiologist  
i like dave

gardenGnostic  
uuuuuh i thought this was established when you made friends with him?????

ectoBiologist  
no jade i like LIKE him  
like hey arnold like him like him

gardenGnostic  
oh!!  
:O!!!!!!!!  
karkat wants to know why you suddenly realized this  
and also he told you so :T

ectoBiologist  
uuuugh it’s none of his business! DX

gardenGnostic  
hes just trying to help

ectoBiologist  
SIGH i know :( i’m sorry i’m being a total asshole….  
but  
i’m pretty sure the friend he lives with is his girlfriend.  
or at least a friends-with-benefits sort of thing?

gardenGnostic  
?????

ectoBiologist  
i mean they have their own beds and stuff but she was totally wearing his shirt and they kissed when he went to make breakfast.

gardenGnostic  
uh  
hold on karkat and sollux wont stop laughing :T

ectoBiologist  
wow assholes.

You’re about a block away from your apartment when she finally texts you back.

gardenGnostic  
sorry apparently they have some sort of insider information that they absolutely refuse to share :T  
karkat says itll be better if you figure this out on your own or something?????  
but i think it has something to do with aradia??? thats his roommate right???

ectoBiologist  
yeah :T  
and they’re still assholes wow.

gardenGnostic  
totally!!!!! ugh boys  
present company notwithstanding of course :3  
are you going to be okay?????

ectoBiologist  
yeah i guess. i’ll probably idk shower and then angst over some ice cream.  
i just….  
how did i not realize i like-like him?

gardenGnostic  
well this is the first time youve actually had a crush on a boy right???

ectoBiologist  
of course! which is the weird part? i’ve never been interested in guys before but suddenly i….  
you know…  
you’d think this would have come up earlier!

gardenGnostic  
weeeeelll……  
*sigh* hold on karkat apparently calls dibs on this convo  
JOHN, SOMETIMES YOU ARE AS DUMB AS ROCKS.

ectoBiologist  
rude!!!

gardenGnostic  
SHUT UP AND LISTEN.  
YOU’VE ALWAYS SOLIDLY SELF IDENTIFIED AS STRAIGHT, RIGHT?

ectoBiologist  
yeah?

gardenGnostic  
SO IT’S ENTIRELY POSSIBLE THAT YOU’VE HAD PASSING INTEREST IN MEN BEFORE BUT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE NOTICED BECAUSE YOU IDENTIFY AS STRAIGHT.  
YOUR THING FOR DAVE MAY BE THE FIRST TIME YOU’VE LIKED A GUY YOU ACTUALLY HAVE REGULAR CONTACT WITH, THUS LEAVING YOU WITH AN ACTUAL *CRUSH* INSTEAD OF A MINOR INFATUATION.  
AND IT REALLY ISN’T UNCOMMON FOR SOMEONE TO REALIZE LATER IN LIFE THAT HEY, ACTUALLY, THEY SORT OF REALLY FUCKING DIG X, Y AND Z GENDERS ON TOP OR INSTEAD OF WHAT THEY THOUGHT THEY LIKED.

ectoBiologist  
uh. oh.  
um okay?

gardenGnostic  
HAVE I SOOTHED YOUR DISPROPORTIONATE ANGST?

ectoBiologist  
yeah a little. you’re surprisingly good at the whole uh… reassuring thing?

gardenGnostic  
NO FUCKING DUH, SHITLORD. IT IS SORT OF MY JOB.

ectoBiologist  
eheheh, yeah. um thanks?  
i guess i won’t totally stew in angst. it still sucks that my first official dude crush is on a straight guy :T

gardenGnostic  
wow my boyfriend is super cute when hes in full help people with lectures mode >w<  
i think youre his most frustrating case though heehee  
he stomped off to make coffee its really funny!!!!!  
but wow liking straight people sucks butts :T  
im sorry :<

ectoBiologist  
it’s not your fault.

gardenGnostic  
i know!!!! but youre my baby brother and i love you and it suuuucks liking someone who doesnt swing your way  
especially when theyre one of your friends!!!!

ectoBiologist  
yeah

gardenGnostic  
hey how about this  
you shower and get dressed and stuff and the three of us will totally whisk you away to beths or something  
cant be sad if youre full of delicious biscuits and gravy :DDDD

===>

Biscuits and gravy help. So do three pints of Ben & Jerry’s and a weekend of marathoning terrible action movies from the eighties.

===>

Dave’s practically on cloud nine when he comes into the coffee shop a week and a half after you realize your crush on him. He’s literally skipping, his grin barely contained, and he passes on ordering a coffee to just hover over you.

“Wow, someone’s chipper,” you snark to cover the pounding of your heart when his grin finally overwhelms his face.

“No dude, you will never believe what I just found,” he actually bounces on the balls of his feet, giddy as he says, “C’mon, let’s go to my place. Tee-Zee will flat out murder me if she catches me with this in here.”

That… sounds ominous. You have suspicions about what is making his bag bulge, but you pack up while Dave fidgets like a kindergartener, his cheeks flushed with cold and excitement, and you absolutely do not look at how he’s biting his lip because it makes you sort of _really_ want to kiss him. He’s ridiculously cute when he’s excited over his dead things and he is flat out ecstatic over whatever it is he’s found.

You follow him out and down the road to his part of the neighborhood. He bounds up the stairs to his building’s door, then down the flight to his floor. It’s fucking adorable, his excitement practically tangible, and the first thing he does as soon as the door to his apartment is closed is pull a dead crow from his bag.

It’s tucked into a couple of ziplock bag, two or three layers of plastic obscuring details, but that is most definitely a dead crow he’s presenting to you like it’s the holy grail. You should probably be grossed out, but honestly it’s pretty funny, so you just return his grin.

“It’s really fresh,” he says, “So Fef’s gonna drive me out to her cabin in a little. You wanna come?”

You don’t even pause to think before you say, “Sure.” Dave may have really gross hobbies, but he’s adorably enthusiastic about them and he wants to _share that with you_. It gives you butterflies. 

Two and a half hours later, you’re tromping through the snow after Dave, shivering even with your borrowed scarf-hat-mitten knitted collection. You’re apparently headed towards the property line, and you can only hope that the massive “cabin” you parked next to is not proportional to the amount of land it’s on. You think if it was, you’d end up on the other side of the mountain before you reached your destination.

You don’t see the building until you almost walk into it. In your defense, it’s right on the edge of the woods and dusk is throwing deep shadows. Also, it’s all glass. Really clear glass. It’s not your fault you didn’t see it, so Dave can really stop laughing any time now!

“So you’re probably gonna want to stay back,” he says, turning on the flashlight he somehow materialized when you weren’t looking.

“Fuck no, it’s cold out here!”

Dave laughs harder, shaking his head. “No, trust me, you don’t want to go in there.” You frown at him until he rolls his eyes and shrugs, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You’re right behind him when he opens the door to the greenhouse. It unseals like a fridge and you are literally knocked back a couple of steps by this wall of stench that comes rolling out. You stumble back, gagging, but Dave just stands there. Laughing. Like he didn’t just unleash the stank of hell.

“Told you,” he says, smirking.

You pull the collar of your shirt up over your nose and wheeze, “What the _hell_ is that?”

“The bog of eternal stench. Welcome to the rot pit.”

He tucks the flashlight under his armpit, pulls out his ziplock of crow and turns his face away from the open door to inhale deeply, pinching his lips as he holds his breath. You don’t follow him when he walks in, dumping the bird unceremoniously on the ground.

When he walks back out, you ask, “Do you really have a greenhouse for _dead things_?”

His “Yup,” is completely deadpan and you stare at him in mild horror.

“Why?”

“It was an anniversary gift from Fef,” he laughs and you’re glad he’s leading the way back to the car because your good mood evaporates instantly.

Oh.

===>

Not gonna lie, you are super psyched about John agreeing to doing shit with you for your birthday. You aren’t surprised; John always seems down to hang out, but he’s going with you to Deep Roots for your new tattoo. You think you may be able to convince him to hold your hand while you get it done. Ironically, of course.

Theoretically. You, personally, are one hundred percent on board with non-ironic hand holding but John is… sort of painfully straight. That was made extra obvious by how awkwardly he ended up bailing because Aradia is bad at wearing pants. You don’t give a shit; you’ve seen that girl naked so many times that even if you weren’t a photographer you wouldn’t be phased. You do think it was really sweet how he pointedly did not creep on your bestie, averting his gaze from her be-panty’d ass, but that’s besides the point.

(No, it’s not. He’s fucking chivalrous on top of being hot as sin and it makes your kokoro doki so hard the manga of your life is literally nothing but doki sound effects and shoujo sparkles at this point.)

No, the point is, you timed your bussing like a boss. You don’t even have to get off at John’s house. He’s waiting at the stop already, cheeks flushed with cold as he grins at you from the door. You’re up at the front, spread out to take up two seats like a jackass specifically so you can scoot over for him to sit next to you. He does and you end up a little squished against the bus window with the breadth of his shoulders and your bag wedged awkwardly between you.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he breathes with a little laugh, squirming to settle in as you pull your bag into your lap. You roll your eyes.

“That’s why layers are a thing, bro,” you snark, “Maybe if you actually wore a scarf you wouldn’t freeze.”

“Maybe I just like stealing yours,” he teases back, actually winking at you. You can’t complain. The view of his neck and collarbone when he doesn’t bother actually dressing for the cold is lovely, and when he does jack one of your scarves, they always reek of him when he gives them back. It’s a win-win situation for you.

You do make a big show out of tugging today’s scarf (a desaturated red merino-angora blend that is snuggly as shit, courtesy of your darling twin just like the other five pounds of scarves you own). He squawks with laughter when you loop it around his neck for him, pulling him in close to tuck the ends inside his jacket. It’s really gay. There’s a moment where you think you might actually kiss him. You’re nose to nose, your fingers wrapped up in his collar, and he’s staring at you with his horrifically beautiful baby blues, pupils blown huge.

You cough a little awkwardly as you pull away, face a little pink (by which you actually mean really fucking pink. God damned neon sign pink, advertizing your thoughts all like yo I want to kiss you like mad and you are so fucking glad John’s a bit of a ditz). You tell him, “Jeeze, quit with the puppy dog eyes, you know I can’t resist,” and relax when he laughs.

“I’d hate to see how you’d manage with my dog, then.”

“I thought it was your sister’s dog.”

“Same thing.”

Your banter slides into something completely no-homo and you settle in next to him for the trip out to the University District while you pull out your phone. You have favours to call in.

turntechGodhead  
dear sweet gorgeous rose  
you are my twin and i am fine as fuck so its totes appropriate for me to butter you up with comments about your looks  
by which i mean i need you to shit out a new scarf basically now

tentacleTherapist  
Yes, of course, because I am literally a knitting machine.

turntechGodhead  
no seriously its actually kind of important john keeps stealing mine and if i huff them anymore after he gives them back aradia is actually going to check me into rehab

tentacleTherapist  
Step one to recovery is admitting you have a problem in the first place.

turntechGodhead  
so will you help a brother out or not

tentacleTherapist  
Ha ha. I see what you did there.  
And I suppose I could assist you. What are you looking for specifically?

You look over to find John with his nose buried in your scarf and your heart skips a beat.

turntechGodhead  
the snuggliest shit youve got  
in blue preferably

tentacleTherapist  
So you’re commissioning me to make an incredibly snuggly scarf to act as your proxy because you’re in love with a straight guy. I see.

turntechGodhead  
yo we do not drop the l word  
this is not logo  
i operate on the scott pilgrim dictionary the only l word is lesbians

tentacleTherapist  
I stand corrected.  
So you’re commissioning me to make an incredibly snuggly scarf to act as your proxy because you are in lesbians with a straight guy.

turntechGodhead  
much better

You ring the bell for the next stop and swipe your thumb against the screen to bring up your text convo with Aradia.

turntechGodhead  
yo so i am absolutely not allowed at all whatsoever to get absolutely shitfaced  
i place with you my full trust to keep this from happening  
help me obi wan youre my only hope

apocalypseArisen  
ahaha okay?

turntechGodhead  
no seriously as much as i am personally rooting for a disney ending  
drunken reveals of personal feelings towards a certain lumberjack probs isnt the best way to end the night  
you know how i get  
and for fucks sake dont tell my sister  
she will make damn sure i drink so much my blood is replaced with vodka and im not down with re-enacting moulin rouge  
except without the sex  
and prostitution

apocalypseArisen  
pft yeah nobody wants that  
youd look terrible in red lipstick

turntechGodhead  
i beg your pardon  
also shut up tattoo time

apocalypseArisen  
enjoy your pain!!!

===>

He holds your hand the entire two hours it takes you to get your tattoo. You are never washing it again.

===>

Dave’s apartment is way too tiny to be holding as many people as it is when you get there. Thankfully they’re mostly all people you know : Aradia and Feferi and Terezi and Dave’s twin. The lanky redheaded woman introduces herself as Rose’s girlfriend, Kanaya, and Dave snickers, “Everyone I know is a lesbian,” under his breath as he heads to the kitchen.

You’re a little bewildered and Terezi yanks you down onto Dave’s bed next to her, cackling, “Actually, I’m bi. You should know this, Dave.”

“Like the back of my hand, babe,” Dave snarks back. There are a couple of thuds and the clink of glass against countertop before he adds, “Now who wants some drunkfetti?”

A cheer rises up and Terezi leans into you, arm slung around your shoulder. She wiggles her eyebrows as she purrs, “I came up with the name.”

“I’m actually worried now, thanks,” you reply flatly. You’ve gotten really good at that tone since you started spending so much time with Dave.

She punches you in the shoulder and Aradia nudges you with her knee, grinning; “Don’t worry. It’s actually pretty good.”

“I don’t see how something made with shitty donut vodka can be deemed ‘pretty good’,” Rose deadpans in exactly the same way Dave does; same intonation and everything. If you’d had any doubt they were related -- which you didn’t -- you definitely don’t have any now. Wow, are they alike.

You sort of awkwardly fade into the background as the girls all talk while Dave… stays in the kitchen, like a proper housewife. Thank god he can’t hear your thoughts; he’d probably… well, laugh his ass off at you calling him a housewife, then bat his eyelashes at you because he’s a total goof.

The sound of the blender overpowers all the talking and when it stops Dave comes out in a frilly pink apron, carrying a tea tray covered in martini glasses. The glasses have had their rims dipped in sprinkles and each has a perfect, fancy dollop of whipped cream.

“Jesus fucking christ, you’re a wizard,” you tell him as you take a glass from the offered tray. Dave winks at you with a smirk and you have to look away so he doesn’t notice how badly that flusters you.

“More like a total show off,” caws Terezi, wiping whipped cream from her nose.

“Yo, don’t diss my mad bartending skills,” Dave draws out the last ‘s’ into a sharp ‘z’ sound, dropping to the floor in front of you. He drags his N64 closer, leaning back against your legs as he wraps his fingers around his designated controller, “Now who wants first round?”

He’s breaking out Mario Party. For his birthday, in a group consisting of you, him, and five girls, Dave is actually breaking out Mario Party. You laugh your ass off watching Dave, Terezi, Rose and Feferi of all people duke it out on the ice map, almost spewing your donut vodka milkshake out your nose at one point; you totally get why Terezi named it “Drunkfetti”. It reeks of booze but it totally tastes like confetti cake.

Half a game of Mario Party later, Dave actually passes his controller off to somebody else. Specifically, you. Terezi and Aradia cackle while Rose croons to her twin, “Ooh, someone’s got a crush.”

Dave jabs his elbow into her ribs, jostling your legs. You kick him in retaliation. Everyone else continues laughing, while Dave just turns steadily pinker. You don’t get what the big deal is. Dave is totally possessive of this particular controller but you _have_ actually used it before. Sort of. He’s passed it off to you a couple of times so he could go pee or fuss with something he’s cooking, but that totally counts.

Also he’s really freaking cute when he’s embarrassed, wow.

Once he’s done fending off four girls pinching his cheeks, he does actually get up, heading back into the kitchen to resume his bartending. You don’t even get to change his character. In retaliation, you purposefully do really badly at all the mini-games. Which, really, is only like two of them and probably won’t do a whole lot to his final score, but still.

Dave returns with fresh milkshakes, far less fancy this time around. You happily take the one he hands you and it’s just as strangely delicious. He lets you play a little longer, back on the floor at your feet. His shoulders are warm against your legs. It’s really comfortable and fills your belly with butterflies, which… isn’t really a good combination with all the alcohol you’ve consumed. You do just as poorly on the next mini-game as you did before even though you totally didn’t intend to be shitty, but Dave just laughs and calls you a lightweight, commandeering his controller once more.

His sister gives you A Look, one you totally recognize from having your own older sister who knows more than she should, and you promptly swallow more boozy shake than you probably should.

By the time Dave gets bored and switches out the game cartridge, letting Feferi play her file of you-forget-which-Zelda, you are all way tipsy and Dave has officially passed on his apron. Aradia crawls over both you and Terezi, half stumbling into the kitchen. When she returns, she’s doublefisting bottles, a fifth in each hand with a bottle of beer in her cleavage. You’re drunk enough not to care that seeing her ram’s skull tattoo front and center reminds you that she and Dave _do things_ , and instead you laugh when Dave whines for the Fireball when he gets handed the beer.

“Just one sip, babe, please?” he begs, even going so far as to flip his glasses up to make pitiful puppy dog eyes at her. Aradia gives in and passes him the bottle, and you watch him knock a shot back straight from the bottle. He licks his lips after, passing you the bottle in turn, and your own swallow of the whisky is a fantastic cover for how your face suddenly goes hot.

You try really hard not to think about how you know exactly how Dave’s mouth would taste right now. Oh god, you want to kiss him so badly. You really shouldn’t drink anymore, wow.

Terezi makes grabby hands at the bottle you hold and you pass it along, feeling like you’re back in high school. You wave off Rose’s offer of the donut vodka, watching Dave sip on his beer and itch at where his new tattoo is.

You swish the partially melted remains of the shake around in your glass, debating on whether or not you want to actually finish it. The Fireball has your insides burning up and the warmth of Dave against your legs is distracting and the alcohol is _really_ hitting you now, wow.

Rose leans in towards Dave to show him a text on her phone, jostling you a little. You get a drip of shake sliding over your finger. You lick it off and Dave laughs, “Right here,” patting his shirt over his new tattoo. A few moments later, Rose suddenly howls with laughter and everyone crowds around her to read over her shoulder.

tipsyGnostic  
ssssssooo daveys got a new tatoo rght???? wat is it and wher at??????

tentacleTherapist  
A rose-surrounded crow skull over his heart. It is fantastically pretentious with just a touch of Addams’ Family.

tipsyGnostic  
sheweeet!!1  
tell him to take a pic and send it to me  
wait no uve been dringing alld ay u should totes hav him bust a sxxxxxay move to sho off n post it on yutube ;DDDD

“I’m not _that_ drunk,” Dave laughs.

“Do it anyway, Dave,” urges Terezi, wiggling her eyebrows upside-down, laying flat on her back with her head tilted back over the edge of the bed. Dave rolls his eyes.

You tease, “Like he can even dance.”

You’re fixed with a completely blank stare, Dave’s usual impassive expression somehow even more impassive. Terezi goes, “Oooh!” and Dave hands his beer off to his sister.

“Hold my cider, Rose,” he says, standing.

Rose finishes the meme appropriately with, “I got ‘cho cider, baby, go kick his ass,” just as deadpan as Dave. You can’t help but snicker a little.

Dave steps towards the kitchen where there’s more floorspace, rolling his shoulders. He finger guns at his sister and says, “Yo, drop the bass.”

She puts on a terrible, super girly song made even worse by her tiny phone speaker. It makes Dave breathe a laugh, shaking his head with a tiny smile.

And then he starts dancing. _Actually_ dancing. You laugh along with everybody else as he rolls through bits and pieces of recognizable choreography, sliding through Gangam Style into half of the Napoleon Dynamite dance and then some J-Pop thing you only sort of remember. You have to admit, he’s actually pretty good.

Then he widens his stance, feet planted at shoulder width, and swings his hips side to side. Aradia and Terezi continue to snicker but you’re hypnotized. You swallow hard as his hands slide down his chest and the whole tone of his dancing changes. He turns slowly as he drags his hands back up his body, shirt riding up. The rocking of his hips slides into gyrating as he spins around agonizingly slow, every movement tightly controlled and utterly fluid, in perfect time with the music. One arm ends up fully extended above his head, wrist tilted back to keep his fingers from bumping the ceiling. The other is lifted out at shoulder height, elbow bent to cross his forearm in front of his chest, fingers loosely fisted and the inside of his wrist exposed.

You half cover your face with the hand not currently holding your martini glass in the most delicate death grip ever, watching how his shirt has ridden up from between your fingers.

“Jesus,” Dave laughs, “This is really fucking weird without the eight pounds of jingly crap.”

“Not nearly as impressive either,” Rose snarks back, phone camera trained on him. She’s completely wrong. It’s impressive as hell. It’s _unbelievably sexy_ and Dave really needs to stop. Like, now.

Terezi’s timing is absolutely perfect, and you mean that in a very sarcastic way, when she says, “I thought you were supposed to be showing us your new ink.”

Dave’s arms drop back down to his sides, held out just a little as he steps and twists and sort of flicks his hip like a hula dancer. He’s holding back a grin as he tosses his head and turns away to strut the two feet to the kitchen, the wiggle of his hips hilariously over the top. When he turns back, his hands are at the top of his pants, fingers working the top button loose. You have to bite down on the inside of your cheek really fucking hard to keep from making an embarrassing noise, which is extra dumb because it’s not like you haven’t seen this before! Honestly, you should be a little amazed that Dave managed to keep his jeans on this entire time. He usually strips down the instant he gets into his apartment, but he didn’t and you really can’t decide if you’re glad or not because seriously, the gyrating changes everything!!!

You’re extra thankful that you wear pretty loose jeans as you press the bottom edge of your glass painfully hard against your very interested dick when Dave nudges his _very tight_ jeans down, boxers slipping until you can actually see his pubes and the banner of his tattoo, and you are ninety-percent certain that if he even breathes too hard his dick will pop out and that, _that_..!

Oh god.

You down the last of your milkshake and promptly choke on it, half inhaled alcohol burning your sinuses. Your sputtering thankfully stops Dave’s dancing in its tracks. Instead, he half kneels in front of you while Terezi slaps you across the back. It’s not really an improvement. Eyes watering, you’re faced with Dave and his pants that are barely on while your nose runs and you have a freaking _boner_ because of his goofy, pseudo strip tease.

“Yo dude, you okay?” he asks, snickering with concern.

You pitifully croak back, “I think I got sprinkles up my nose,” and everyone busts up laughing. Dave steps back and pulls his pants up, much to your relief, going on to pull his shirt off in order to actually show everyone his tattoo. Terezi _ooh_ s and _aaah_ s over the bandaging, reaching out to gently caress the taped edges. You’ve already seen it, so you don’t feel bad weaving through the mess of people to the bathroom, your nose still dripping.

When you come back out, Rose is straddling Dave’s ribs, phone poised to take a picture of his tattoo. He has the most epic of long suffering expressions, his shades knocked off his face. He rolls his eyes and heaves a sigh when you laugh and do exactly nothing to help.

===>

You’re bound and determined to actually make John breakfast this time. You spent the last week and a half harassing Aradia into agreeing to actually wear pants so she doesn’t scare him off again, even going so far as to enlist Feferi in the pants-required party. With her help, it’ll happen. You have it all planned out. You’re going to make fucking cinnamon rolls.

John’s already passed out, unfortunately clothed in pjs with a shirt and everything, but he’s sprawled out adorably and close enough to the middle of the bed that you’re able to get away with almost-cuddling. One of his arms overlaps yours, fingers curled against your wrist. It’s stupidly cute and precisely why you moved your bed away from the wall. You spent all morning insisting it was for ease of puking but you totally did it so you could sneak out without waking John. Because cinnamon rolls and a cute guy who totally belongs in your bed.

It’s going to be perfect. It’ll be so worth your sleep deprivation and the shit you get from your sister because he’s going to wake up horribly hungover and you’ll be there with aspirin and water and a hot, buttery, homemade cinnamon roll and he’ll grin at you. Or maybe not. He’ll probably groan happily and stuff his face and spend the next hour sitting too close to you as he drinks his coffee. You go all warm and fuzzy on the inside just thinking about it.

===>

The morning goes pretty much exactly as planned. You feel like exhausted ass all through making the cinnamon rolls, but it’s worth it for how John grumbles, “Those had better be for me,” about ten minutes before they’re done. You’re not surprised; your apartment reeks of fresh-baked goods. It’s still really cute, especially considering how he doesn’t even move and speaks face first into your pillows.

John sighs appreciatively at the steaming hot, frosting-free cinnamon roll you hand him when they’re done. You sigh appreciatively at the way your bedding pools around his hips and how he discarded his shirt at some point in the night.

===>

Your boner is conflicted. On one hand, boners are great. On the other, you’ve never really been a fan of porn and _gay porn_ is just. Way weird.

So you’re left with a recurring boner you can’t really do anything about because when you try, you start to think about things. About Dave, specifically, and how much you really like him, which is just awkward.

Really, it’s less that your boner is conflicted and more that you are conflicted about your boner.

===>

“So,” Dave says out of the blue, “Any chance you’d be willing to model for me sometime?”

He doesn’t look at you as he says it, intensely focused on the game of Mario Kart that the two of you are playing (and you are now losing). You sort of gawk at him, watching his face turn pink.

“Like, you’re pretty fuckin’ attractive, I mean, objectively. And I hardly get to work with male models so my port is basically nothing but ladies and self portraits so it’d be super rad to have a new face in there and I’ve been kicking around some concepts that I think your colouring would be pretty rad for.”

You’ve basically stopped trying to play the video game and you can tell that Dave is just going through the motions. He’s fallen into sixth place. He’s in sixth place when you’ve never seen him lower than third and he thinks you’re _attractive_.

“I mean you don’t _have_ to be naked. I’d like it if you were ‘cause nudes are my favourite thing to shoot but it’s totally up to you how much clothing you take off. It’s not a big deal and I’m down with pretty much whatever you’d be comfortable with and stuff.”

His blush has traveled all the way down to the collar of his shirt, his face and neck flaming red, and you sort of wonder how far it extends under his clothes. You also wonder if he’d blush this hard if you were to… kiss him.

And then there’s this tiny part of your brain that you’re totally ignoring that hopes he turns this red during _things_ , because it’s really cute and the way his breath has picked up just a little while he rambles is kind of really hot, holy shit. Except you do not acknowledge this tiny part of your brain _at all_ because Dave is your _friend_ and he’s _straight_ even he is totally interested in seeing you naked. He’s only interested in a platonic, artsy way.

Unfortunately.

He licks his lips, voice falling to a mumble when he says, “Fuck, this is really awkward. Sorry, just. Forget I said anything, it’s cool. These are not the droids you’re looking for.” The last bit he says dramatically with a little hand wave, still not looking at you.

Your eyebrows are raised ridiculously high, you’re sure. Your heart is fluttering in your rib cage because _Dave_ thinks you’re _attractive_ and wants to see you _naked_ and even though you really do understand that he’s not actually interested in you _like that_ , a guy can still dream, right? And Dave looks really dejected over your flabbergasted lack of response so you shrug and say, “Sure?”

Finally, he looks at you, eyebrows twitching up in surprise. “What?”

“I’m okay with giving it a shot,” you mumble, shrugging again and dropping your own gaze to your knees, “I mean, I’ve never done anything like that so I can’t promise I’ll be good at it but…”

The way he smiles at that, at _you_ , brilliant and wide and gorgeous, makes your heart swell. You are so completely in love with him.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder that there's a lot of shit in [the tag](http://sumomomochi.tumblr.com/tagged/beans-and-bones) for this fic on my tumblr. check there before asking if this fic has been abandoned :I


	6. Chapter 6

===>

ectoBiologist  
ugh jade  
jade i am really really gay for dave Dx

gardenGnostic  
uh yeah????  
i thought this was a thing we established :T

ectoBiologist  
no it is i just…  
having a crush on a friend is so haaaaard. it needs to go away already.

gardenGnostic  
:T

ectoBiologist  
sigh  
what do i do about it???

gardenGnostic  
you could always idk  
ask him out?????

ectoBiologist  
but he’s straight? and i am really definitely not.  
like seriously, i have never, ever wanted to kiss someone as badly as i want to kiss dave.  
and the whole… doing more than kissing.

gardenGnostic  
aw my baby brother is all grown up :’’’’)

ectoBiologist  
uuugh no fuck you Dx

gardenGnostic  
i think you mean fuck dave ;DD

ectoBiologist  
siiiiiigh you’re the worst.

gardenGnostic  
yep ;DD  
but seriously dave is a total weirdo  
like he dated terezi and karkat so its so totally possible that hed want to date you too you know

ectoBiologist  
wait he dated terezi AND karkat?

gardenGnostic  
uh yeah/???  
i thought he told you

ectoBiologist  
no? at least, i don’t think he did.  
like he did tell me that he and karkat both dated terezi but i didn’t think he meant it the same way you and karkat are both dating sollux?

gardenGnostic  
huh well then  
karkat said all three of them were dating in high school so………  
SHRUG  
ehehehe and that hes apparently a REALLY GREAT!!!!!! kisser ;DDDDD

ectoBiologist  
oh god  
no stop jade  
quit that Dx

gardenGnostic  
quit what ;DDDDD?????

ectoBiologist  
the winking you perv!!!!

gardenGnostic  
ehehehehe  
well if you dont make a move i will ;DDDD  
sollux says even if you do make a move we should still also make a move

ectoBiologist  
aisdhofahgad NO jesus Dx  
i am not actually interested in kissing your boyfriends with you okay????  
and i don’t want your boyfriends kissing mine Dx 

gardenGnostic  
AHAHAHAHA

ectoBiologist  
OH MY FUCKING GOD THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!!  
HYPOTHETICAL BOYFRIEND. AS IN THE BOY THAT I WOULD LIKE TO DATE.

===>

Dave actually broke out one of the three camp chairs stashed under his bed. It’s really weird to see it in his apartment after spending so much time there with the only seating being either his bed or his floor. You opted to lay on his bed when he offered you one of the others, more than happy not to have a front row seat to his bone cleaning.

You’re extra glad you didn’t go out to his bone house with him to pick his crow back up. Just the stank that’s clung to him is bad enough; he literally smells like death but he’s really fucking cute hunched over his lap full of bones, scrubbing at them with a hot pink toothbrush. He’s narrating the entire process, going over how the greenhouse speeds up decomposition and maceration since the area is cleared of trees to both the east and west, how what he’s doing now is really just cleaning off all the gunk that’s clung to the bones post rotting. You watch him separate the big bones from the teeny tiny ones from your place face down across his covers. He has a trio of jars set out on the shelf next to him and the bones make little clinking noises when he drops them in.

“Why are you splitting them up?” you ask, wiping at the corner of your mouth to check if you’ve started to drool. You haven’t and he doesn’t look up when he says, “One for the skull, one for the limbs and one for the rest of ‘em. Makes it easier to pour the little ones into panty hose so I don’t lose any.”

“Hmm. What’s the peroxide for?”

With that, he does look at you, eyes flicking up from his work as he smiles and pushes his bangs out of the way with the back of his forearm. You grin back without even thinking about it, which makes him snicker as he says, “Whitening mostly. Also kills bacteria so they’re for reals safe to handle without gloves.”

You like listening to him talk about this, even though the whole collecting dead things really grosses you out, so you ask, “Wouldn’t bleach do the same thing?”

“No, dude, _never_ bleach bones,” he sounds completely offended, “Bleach breaks down bone and ruins it. Makes ‘em a gross ass yellow too.”

Huh, not what you would have expected; you say,“Neat.”

He hums, “Mm-hm,” in reply and your heart clenches a little. It doesn’t hurt as bad as before when you suddenly remember how much you like him but…

He fills the toe end cut off a pair of panty hose with his crow’s vertebrae and stuff, knotting it loosely before he tucks it in with the leg bones. The way he snaps off his gloves, folding them around each other as he goes like you see on medical dramas, makes you swallow hard. Same with how he cradles the jars in his long fingers as he pours hydrogen peroxide in and the delicate flick of his wrist as he twists the lids on.

You don’t get a whole lot of time to sigh over how gorgeous he is though because as soon as he has both jars filled and settled on his shelf, he flops across your legs, leaning back against the wall. You roll under his weight so you can look at him without completely wrenching your neck.

“So,” he drawls, deadpan, staring down at his toes, “You still down to model for me? ‘Cause Fef’s got a thing Saturday so our studio will be free.”

===>

You meet Dave after his shift at The Crumpet Shop. Really, you meet Dave halfway through cleaning The Crumpet Shop -- you can’t believe that’s the actual name of the store -- and the grin that blossoms across his face when you wave at him through the window he’s washing gives you butterflies. He lets you in where it’s warm even though they’re closed and you awkwardly stand by the counter.

“Heya, cool kid,” one of Dave’s coworkers says from the back where she’s washing dishes.

Dave snorts when you look at him, baffled, and says, “Yeah, she means you.”

“Any friend of the cool kid is a cool kid unto themselves,” she says sagely, nodding. Dave sputters into giggles.

“No, ‘Tula, this is _John_ we’re talkin’ about. John is a total goober.”

Your objection is ignored in favour of Tula turning to stare you down, grinning in an all too familiar way. “So this is your boyo,” she croons and Dave goes red.

“He’s not my..!” Dave protests, only to be met with a cackle. His resulting scowl is a little more like a pout and you end up blushing too.

“Latula Pyrope,” she says, “Nice to finally meet you, Johnny boy.”

Dave heaves a sigh, dumping his squeegee back into the washbucket. “All done up here, babe. You got the rest?”

“Yeah, sure. Go do your thang, broski.”

Dave hooks one of his arms around yours, dragging you off through the back door while he salutes his coworker. He leads you through the bowels of Pike Place to avoid the winter cold, arm in arm as you weave through all the foot traffic, down a floor then back up out and onto the street. You stay locked together like that the whole way and then some, Dave rambling over how, if you hurry, he can actually use natural lighting.

“I mean,” he says, “I’ve got a pretty good set up but nothing beats natural lighting, ‘specially since we’ve got these super rad ancient single pane windows in our studio that face out over the sound. Freaking _western_ facing windows, man; the light is going to be all gold and gorgeous for like twenty minutes.”

You literally understood maybe a third of that in a picture taking context but the way he’s super excited makes you grin _so hard_. You nudge your shoulder against his and laugh, “Nerd.”

Dave purses his lips and side-eyes you from behind his sunglasses, bumping back against you. It makes you snicker. You tighten your arm around his, pulling him a little closer. You know you shouldn’t but you do it anyway and it’s worth it for the way Dave smiles, shoulders shaking as he laughs silently.

This… was a bad idea.

Too late now. Dave finally detangles himself from you at a bus stop a block away from the market, digging in his pocket for his wallet. You do the same and follow him as he hops on the first bus to pull in. It’s crowded enough that, just on the other side of the back doors, you’re able to press in close, half a breath away from being plastered against your best friend in a way only public transit can provide. He smells like spiced apples and pepper and the swaying of the bus has him bumping back against you. All it does is reaffirm that this was a _really_ bad idea.

You’re jolted from your minor angst by him accidentally elbowing you in the gut, half turning in the tight quarters to get your attention. You squawk in surprise and he laughs while he steps around you, hands migrating from handhold to hand hold to keep his balance as he makes his way towards the back door.

You are completely lost. You don’t think you’ve ever been to this part of Seattle, which is really strange because you’re like, five blocks out from the heart of Downtown. Dave apparently knows exactly where he’s going because he sets off down the sidewalk again without an issue. He leads you around the block to a door in the back of the building, cars roaring across the viaduct overhead. He punches in the door code and heads in. You continue to follow him, swallowing back your nerves.

The silence in the elevator is almost stifling, thick and heavy and only affecting you. Dave looks like he’s on cloud nine; he’s no longer grinning like a loon but he’s… glowing. That’s really all you can think of to describe how happy he seems to be. It’s sort of freaking you out.

And it sort of makes you wonder what would happen if you _did_ kiss him. If Jade is right and he did do the whole threesome poly thing with Karkat before then… maybe?

Oh god, no. You can’t think about any maybes when you’re going to be _naked_ at the other end of this elevator ride.

The doors slide open and Dave steps out, glancing back at you. He snickers a little under his breath, saying, “Dude, calm your tits. I’m a pro, trust me.”

You frown at him, which just makes him laugh a little harder. His stupid, cute face does really not help you stop freaking out over the whole _naked_ thing.

Dave whips out his keys, unlocking one of the doors lining the hall. Inside is really not what you expected. While his apartment is cluttered and mismatched and homey, this is very definitely a workspace. It’s clean and vast, walls either ancient brick or crisp, fresh white paint and what little furniture there is all straight lines and black leather.

There’s still a shelf full of bones, but instead of the dark wood, glass front cabinets he has in his apartment, it’s a plain old Ikea shelf, you’re pretty sure. Bones are laid out neatly among some actual books, but there are no pretentious velvet placemats or ridiculous lace doilies or weird bone jenga towers.

It’s very functional which is very strange considering what a weirdo Dave is.

“Yo, lemme give you the tour,” he says, dumping his bag and coats in a pile by the door. Suddenly, the room becomes way more Dave like. He gestures first to the corner of white wall with literally nothing in it -- “Main shooting space,” -- then to a pair of doors in the opposite corner, “White door’s the bathroom, black’s the darkroom. Don’t go in the darkroom. I will actually hurt you.”

He shuffles off to the bookshelf while he talks, flipping through a folder full of paper; “Fef’s got most of the other side commandeered with her stuff but she’s the cleanest motherfucker I know so…” he trails off as he finds what he’s looking for, you guess, tucking the folder back into place. He motions for you to follow him around to the, well, other side of the u-shaped room. The huge art desk and framed pastel paintings has you putting two and two together and you gasp, “Wait, she’s the one who does all the paintings?”

Dave sputters with laughter; “Dude. Really?”

“What? How was I supposed to know?”

He just shakes his head, grinning, and you really want to kiss him. This was such a bad idea.

“Standard release form,” he says after a moment, handing you a clipboard and a pen, “Mostly just legal mumbo jumbo, basically saying that you are over the age of eighteen, consent to modeling for this project, and allot me rights to the images except where otherwise negotiated, which, in this case, isn’t a huge thing because it’s just trade-for and I’m not planning on like, selling any of the images.”

You still read it over -- your dad taught you well, after all -- and Dave was totally right. It really is just all legal mumbo jumbo that says just what he said it says. You still hesitate a little over actually signing because then this is actually a _thing_ , one that is really, really happening.

“You can back out if you want,” he tells you, voice soft, “It’s cool, no hard feelings.”

You don’t look at him. If you did, you think you really would kiss him, which is just. Not good. Instead you flick the pen against the edge of the clipboard, trying not to blush. “It’s just, you know. The naked thing,” you say. It’s still a little awkward to admit but still a good cover for how hot your face feels.

“That’s cool. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he shrugs, “Figured we’d start slow anyway since you’re a noob.”

You give him a single finger salute while you scrawl your name out at the bottom of the page and he laughs his ass off. You pass off the clipboard and fight jitters while Dave goes to get his camera.

And somehow it’s not as hard as you thought? Dave was right; he is totally a professional, continuously giving calm, succinct directions from behind his camera. You just do what he says, listening to his quiet breathing and the click-whir of the camera shutter. It still takes you a good ten minutes to actually relax and then Dave goes, “Jesus it’s quiet. Did you wanna listen to music?”

You laugh, “That’s fine.”

“Sweet.”

He sets down his camera, wandering back to the other side of his studio, and you stand there doing your best not to actually move. The music doesn’t actually change anything, you find once he gets it all set up. For the most part, it just fades into the background, his ipod obviously on shuffle but the music familiar for the most part.

Until the chorus of one particular ballad ends up being a very loud, “I CAN BARELY FIT MY DICK IN MY PANTS,” and you basically fall over laughing. Dave continues to snap pictures all through your giggle fit, grinning wide behind his camera.

“What the fuck is this?” you ask, breathless.

“Meat Loaf.”

“Meatloaf?”

“Meat Loaf.”

You laugh even harder at that for some reason, completely confused, and by the time you sober up a little, the chorus comes back around and this time Dave sings along, hips popping in a pelvic thrust at just the right moment. You sink to the floor, gasping for air, giggling helplessly until he takes pity on you and changes the song.

He takes a moment to fuss with his camera while you catch your breath, eyes glued to the little screen on the back, nodding a little as he surveys his work.

“Kay, cool. You good?” he asks, smirking. You roll your eyes and nod for him to continue, “Cool. Take off your glasses and stand with your back to the window.”

Just like that he goes from a total dork back to super professional photographer dude. You follow his directions, tucking one arm of your glasses into the collar of your shirt. He side-steps around you, camera glued to his face again, fingers twisting the protruding lense.

“Lean back against the window sill a little.” He fusses with his camera a little more and then adds, “Lift your chin just a -- there, good.”

It takes some serious effort not to snicker at how silly you feel, pretending to be intense and melancholy. You can’t help it when Dave drops to one knee. You bite your lip as you grin, eyes locked on one specific brick in the wall.

Dave exhales hard and says, “Fucking christ, dude.”

“Sorry, I’m trying really hard not to laugh.”

“No, dude it’s fine,” he looks up at you over the top of his camera, half bewildered, “but if tumblr doesn’t respond with reblog after reblog of dropped panties ‘cause of you, I’ll be real fuckin’ surprised. God _damn_ you’re attractive.”

You blush and cover your face with one hand, and Dave takes a picture of that too.

“Yo, tamp that ego down, bro. No need to be humble, it’s cool, I know how it goes.”

“Shut up, Dave, that doesn’t even make sense.”

He blows you a kiss over the top of his camera. It’s twice as funny without his shades on but also way more appealing since the way his eyes go half lidded when he does it is… hot. Especially combined with the way he licks his bottom lip after, touching both rings with his tongue, before he says, “Lights starting to die so we’re gonna move over now. You cool with taking off your shirt?”

“Uh, sure.”

You step off towards the space he indicates, peeling your t-shirt over your head as you go. You can hear him follow behind you, continuing to take pictures as though you taking off your shirt is actually _interesting_ and… you totally forgot about your glasses. They clatter to the ground between your feet and you have a quick oh fuck moment as you squat down to pick them back up. They’re fine, thankfully; it’s not the first time you’ve dropped your glasses but you’re always terrified of actually breaking them. You kind of really need your glasses to see, after all.

“You can stick those on the shelf if you’d like,” Dave says. You can hear the smile in his voice and it doesn’t help your butterflies any. You still settle your glasses on the bookshelf, out of harms way since apparently he doesn’t want you wearing them for now.

Dave comes up behind you and readjust, sticking your glasses on one of the skulls there like a complete goofball. Then he picks up his camera from where it dangles around his neck and snaps a picture. Of your glasses on a skull.

“You are a total dork,” you tell him. He just snickers and shows you the picture on his camera’s tiny little screen.

“A dork I may be,” he says, “But you gotta admit that looks pretty awesome.”

You snicker, “No, it looks totally dorky, like way to go Dave, you’ve escalated in your hipsterness. Instead of taking pictures of skulls and coffee, you’ve now taken a picture of a skull in stupid, pretentious hipster glasses. Now you’re just need the coffee and you’ll have the perfect hipster trifecta.”

Dave busts up laughing, “Those are _your_ glasses, stupid.”

“Yeah, and on me they’re not stupid pretentious hipster glasses because I’m not a stupid, pretentious hipster. I actually need glasses to see you know!”

“No, dude, you are totally a hipster,” Dave giggles, “A lumberjack hipster.”

“What, no I’m not! I am absolutely neither of those things!”

“Yo, trust me, you are actually a lumberjack hipster, with your perfectly coifed neck beard -- “

“I don’t -- neckbeards can’t even _be_ coifed!”

“ -- and your plaid shirts -- “

“They’re comfortable, okay!”

Dave can’t even continue his argument, he’s laughing so hard. You watch him sink onto the couch, clutching his camera like a lifeline while he giggles, face pink and adorable. You cross your arms over your (bare!!!) chest, frowning at him, which only makes him laugh harder. Somehow. You’re not sure how he can even laugh harder since he’s successfully reached awkward gasping seal noises, but he manages.

And he _still_ takes a picture of you. Like, what are you even doing that’s interesting? You’re just sort of glowering at him because you are totally _not_ a hipster. At least he only takes a couple, settling his camera into his lap when he’s done to fan his face while he wheezes with the last of his mirth.

It’s a little hard to make out the details of his face without your glasses but the smile he shoots you is still absolutely gorgeous.

“You know, just for that, I’m gonna have you pose for shitty, pretentious hipster things,” he says.

You sigh, “Oh god,” and roll your eyes, “Anything but the pretentious hipster things.”

Dave starts giggling again; “Jesus fuck can we actually use the phrase ‘pretentious hipster’ any more in this conversation?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me, you’re the pretentious hipster.”

You crack a grin at his sputtering, absolutely in love with how much of a dork he is despite his aloof facade.

“Jesus, fucking, no stop. I am dead, you have slain me,” Dave wheezes in laughter, flailing one limp wristed hand as he continues, “Bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses, sink me in the river at dawn.”

You stare at him, cocking your hip out to be the most disapproving; “Did you just quote Taylor Swift.”

“That’s not fucking Taylor Swift, jesus christ, it’s.. someone else, eye-dee-fuckin’-kay.”

You want to kiss him, keep him breathless and gasping. There’s a moment, just the space between one heartbeat and the next while you both sober up from laughing so hard where you swear you’re going to do it.

And then it passes.

Dave glances down at his camera again, still smiling sweetly as he flips through the last couple of pictures again. He pulls his camera strap over his head and sets the camera down on the shelf next to the skull your glasses were so lovingly placed on, strap tucked towards the very back of the bookcase. You stay where you are while Dave putters around you, mumbling something about setting up, ducking in and out of the bathroom. Each trip he makes results in him pulling out things you _really_ don’t think actually belong in the bathroom. You recognize the sort of standing light he carries out along with the weird, white umbrella thing from family portraits and school photos, but the floppy metallic circle has you at a complete loss. So does the roll of white paper.

You plop onto the couch to watch him set up, doing a lot more than plugging in a light. Honestly, you end up paying more attention to the way he moves than to what he’s doing, engrossed in the arch of his back and the rise of his shirt.

In practically no time, he motions for you to stand and take your place. He’s gone full photographer again, giving you directions and clicking away for the next forever.

You don’t end up fully naked. Thankfully, you also don’t end up with a terribly noticeable boner.

===>

gardenGnostic  
OH MY GOD I THINK MY BROTHER MIGHT BE TUMBLR FAMOUS!!!!!  
:OOOOOOO!!!!!

carcinoGeneticist  
WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK ARE YOU GOING ON ABOUT NOW?

gardenGnostic  
hold on ill reblog it you should seriously go look because OH MY GOD

carcinoGeneticist  
JESUS FUCKING DICK SPLITTING CHRIST.  
ON THE LIST OF THINGS I NEVER NEEDED TO SEE, NUMBER ONE IS A REBLOG CHAIN OF WHAT HAS TO BE LARGELY PREPUBESCENT GIRLS DROOLING OVER PICTURES OF YOUR *BROTHER*.  
WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SHOW ME THIS?

gardenGnostic  
did you look at the note count???  
10k!!!!!!! 10k notes on a single picture of him and ive seen it on my dash like four times in the last ten minutes  
i am not even joking its CRAZY :O

carcinoGeneticist  
OH DEAR LORD THERE ARE MORE.

gardenGnostic  
?????

carcinoGeneticist  
CLICK THE SOURCE YOU DORK.

gardenGnostic  
i think you mean incredibly attractive scientist ;D

carcinoGeneticist  
YES, DORK. EXACTLY WHAT I SAID.

gardenGnostic  
<3

carcinoGeneticist  
<3

gardenGnostic  
OH MY GOD THERE ARE MORE OAO

carcinoGeneticist  
I FUCKING TOLD YOU.  
HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

gardenGnostic  
im not sure if i should be upset or really fucking proud oAo  
like wow i so totally really did not need to know that half the internet would so be down to boning my brother but  
gosh lookit him all grown up :’)

carcinoGeneticist  
OH MY GOD

gardenGnostic  
?????

carcinoGeneticist  
FUCKING CHRIST I THINK I MAY ACTUALLY SHIT MYSELF WITH HOW HARD I AM LAUGHING.  
DAVE TOOK THE PICTURES.  
FUCKING *DAVE* TOOK THE PICTURES OF YOUR BROTHER BEING INCREDIBLY ATTRACTIVE AND I JUST…  
HOLD ON.

tentacleTherapist has been added to the chat

carcinoGeneticist  
PLEASE FUCKING TELL ME YOUR BROTHER HAS DONE NOTHING BUT PINE OVER JOHN.

tentacleTherapist  
Why, hello, Karkat. This is rather unexpected.  
And of course. Dave is a pining master. No one can pine quite as hard or as dramatically as him.  
I take it you’ve come across images from his latest set?

gardenGnostic  
ehehehehehehehe  
oh man my brother is like 900% gay for your brother  
who is apparently TOTALLY GAY for my brother in return?????  
this is so hilarious ehehehehehehe >wtentacleTherapist  
It is absolutely hilarious how neither one of them has realized this.

gardenGnostic  
totally!!!!  
should we tell them?

tentacleTherapist  
Where’s the fun in that?

===>

Jade’s awake well before you are, sitting on the couch with Bec as a blanket when you finally make your way downstairs.

“Dad made pancakes before he went to work,” she tells you, twisting so she can smirk at you over the back of the couch, “They’re stone cold now though.”

You shrug and mumble, “Better when you stick ‘em in a toaster anyway.” It would have never occurred to you to do that before. You’ve never really had much of a reason to oversleep growing up since your dad makes breakfast pretty much every morning, but Dave makes huge batches of pancakes or waffles on his days off just so he can freeze them and pop them in a toaster like eggos, and frankly, they’re delicious. Toasting them makes the edges all crispy and awesome and he’s taken to making extra for you to take home because Dave is the absolute best.

Jade’s still snickering at you when you re-emerge from the kitchen, coffee in one hand and a plate full of freshly toasted pancakes in the other. She asks, “Up late?”

You make a noncommittal noise around your mouthful of food which prompts your sister to wiggle her eyebrows at you.

“Talking to your boyfriend all night?” she teases and you swallow just in time to throw back a flat, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

You busy yourself with rearranging Bec’s hindquarters to allow you to fit on the couch too so you can pretend to ignore how your sister goes awkwardly silent.

===>

Jade convinces you to take her out for crumpets the instant you mention them. In all honesty, it doesn’t take much convincing. You’ve only been home for a couple days and you already miss Dave so much. 

You spend the entire time you’re in the Crumpet Shop watching him work, watching the way he interacts with customers and his coworkers and the way he’ll look up every so often, eyes immediately meeting yours like he’s checking to make sure you’re still there. His tiny, gorgeous smile makes it almost impossible for you to leave.

===>

The first thing you do when you’re back in Seattle for real is head out to the Unicorn with Dave. Well, with Dave and Aradia and Rose and Terezi. You’re fine for the first hour or so, happy to be back, laughing at Dave’s suddenly pink hair and bizarre new t-shirt (Christmas presents, he tells you), but then Feferi and Kanaya arrive. They, in turn, drag along one of their other friends, a dude who can really only be described as _glamourous_ , and with eight of you jammed into the booth…

You’re wedged between Dave and Terezi, which normally you wouldn’t mind so much, but Dave’s plastered up against your side, slouched forward over the table so your shoulders don’t constantly knock against each other. You can feel him breath, feel the rumble of his laughter through where your ribs touch. His thigh overlaps yours casually, not quite thrown across your lap but layered over top like he’s got his feet flat against the front of the bench, toes pointed to the ground. You’ve never given much thought to his legs besides the fact that they go on forever and you desperately want between them, but all you can think of is how solid his thighs feel against yours, not an ounce of fat on them. You shouldn’t be surprised; he’s all bone and muscle, but it’s one thing to know that and something else entirely to actively feel the evidence of it pressed against you.

The heat in your face and your gut doesn’t have a whole lot to do with the drinks you’re consuming but you’re incredibly thankful for the alcohol anyway. It’s a nice excuse to hide behind, a convenient scapegoat for your inappropriate raging boner and your wandering thoughts. You don’t opt out of any round, for once outpacing Dave. You know it’s stupid but you officially stopped giving a shit once Dave leaned back to gesture and stayed, his back half pressed against your chest. You’re left to fumble with your drink, your dominant arm pinned between the booth and the small of Dave’s back.

He’s so warm and he smells so nice and you’re so very fucking drunk you barely even notice when you lean into him, cheek resting against his shoulder and the fingers of your trapped arm tucked into one of his belt loops as you completely zone out. You lose track of the conversation -- not that you were really paying attention before -- and quietly bask in the bittersweet, drunken cuddles Dave’s tolerating.

You catch site of Rose, sitting across from you with a smirk as she almost mirrors your position, wrapped possessively around her girlfriend. She stares you down for a moment and you’re sure you look utterly hopeless because suddenly you feel utterly hopeless, like all of your knowing you’ve no chance with Dave that you’ve been ignoring all night has hit you all at once. Her usual sarcastically amused expression softens just a bit as her eyes flick between your face and Dave’s and the way she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, just a tiny bit, reminds you so totally of Jade…

Who told you he dated Karkat, so maybe he isn’t _just_ tolerating you wrapped around him. You’re overwhelmed by how much you want to kiss him, to press him against a wall and suck on his throat and hear him moan. He pats your leg when you press your forehead against his shoulder, squeezing your knee just a little bit and you’re sure he just thinks you’re starting to feel sick from being so drunk, that he’s just touchy-feely and trying to comfort you or something but your dick still jumps at the contact. His hand is no where near your crotch but your dick throbs and you arch your hips just a little, just barely managing to restrain yourself and your shaky exhale against his shirt would give you away completely if the moan in it could be heard over all the noise in the bar and you just...

You’re gonna do it. Fuck it, you’re going to _do it_.

===>

John is swaying just a little bit as you leave The Unicorn. He’s not quite stumbling but he’s very obviously intoxicated, a little glassy eyed in the dark as he overthinks every step, eyebrows furrowed just a bit. It’s hilariously adorable. You swing one arm across his shoulders, keeping him close so he doesn’t fall off the sidewalk again. It was stupidly cute the last time that happened but your John-is-adorable meter is maxed out and you don’t know how much more you could take without doing something dumb.

Half a block down Eleventh, his hand creeps around your waist and he mumbles your name, his weight nudging you over until you’ve been detoured into an alley. You pull away a little, just enough to look him in the face as you ask, “You okay, bro?” hoping he doesn’t have to hurl.

He nods and licks his lips and… touches your face with his fingertips. His hands are freakishly warm despite it being fucking midnight and god damned thirty degrees or some shit. He’s not even wearing gloves and you have to fight the urge to push your cheek against his palm. You’re somehow still surprised when he leans in, completely ignoring the way you bite out his name like a warning, to press his lips against yours.

It’s soft and sweet and even though you know you shouldn’t, you kiss him back. You kiss him back even when he nudges you towards the wall, pressing you against it, pining you there with his body and his warmth and even with the show of you don’t even fucking know, sexual aggression? he still kisses you soft and sweet.

The idiot has left his coat open. The warmth rolling off of him is intoxicating and he smells like whiskey and laundry soap and fresh air and you can feel his hardon pressed against your hip but you still wrap your arms around his waist.

Your heart breaks into tiny little pieces when he sighs against your cheek, his nose like ice when he nuzzles his face against your neck even though the rest of him is so warm. He doesn’t say anything about the way you clutch at the back of his shirt, fingers fisted under his coat, doesn’t say anything about the way you tremble as you fight to keep from completely flipping your shit.

It was so much easier swooning over him when you thought you didn’t have a chance.

===>

ectoBiologist  
so um. i can’t entirely remember what all happened last night but i kind of think i remember kissing you? please tell me that’s a drunken hallucination.

turntechGodhead  
sorry bro cant do that  
one hundred percent fact right there your lips were on mine of your own drunken violation

ectoBiologist  
fuck i’m so sorry!

turntechGodhead  
naw its cool i know how it goes  
im kind of a big deal why im not constantly getting my mack on with basically anyone around me is one of the worlds greatest mysteries  
im gonna take this as my queue to request a little time to digest this new info like nothing against you i promise just wow this sort of came from nowhere

===>

ectoBiologist  
oh fuck jade i got really drunk and then i kissed dave and now he’s avoiding me!

gardenGnostic  
:O!!!!!  
oh no!!!!!!!!!

ectoBiologist  
i think i’m dying.  
will you come pick me up and take me home?

===>

turntechGodhead  
jesus fuck rose i  
cant  
like that is basically it at this point i actually can fucking not

tentacleTherapist  
Oh?

turntechGodhead  
john kissed me last night  
which on its own is hella holy shit worthy but he fucking remembers doing it  
sort of

tentacleTherapist  
Even “sort of” remembering anything after the amount of alcohol he consumed last night is quite impressive.

turntechGodhead  
youre telling me  
i was really hoping he wouldnt

tentacleTherapist  
That seems rather counter productive.

turntechGodhead  
yeah yeah whatever  
i get you think my “inability to take even the most insignificant of risks in regards to romance” or whatever is fucking stupid  
spoilers thats because it is

tentacleTherapist  
I’m so glad we’ve come to this agreement.

turntechGodhead  
but you dont get it  
it fucking sucks

tentacleTherapist  
Do enlighten me.

turntechGodhead  
youre fucking impossible

tentacleTherapist  
I’m reasonably certain that is the definition of a little sister ;)

turntechGodhead  
weve discussed this before my enlightenment never seems to stick

tentacleTherapist  
Humor me, Dave. Perhaps rehashing the argument will give you the push you need to actually pull your head from your ass.

turntechGodhead  
theres no argument to make  
theres not even the slim possibility that maybe he’s not full blown libido bound  
that kiss involved some serious boner action  
on his end obvs  
stg i actually have a bruise from his dick thats how hard he was  
from kissing

tentacleTherapist  
And how can you be so certain that he was only aroused from kissing you?

turntechGodhead  
what the fuck else was there?

tentacleTherapist  
Perhaps simply being around the person he finds sexually attractive, aka, you.

turntechGodhead  
that  
does not help  
like at all wow am i supposed to be flattered  
mostly thats just fucking weird  
i do not understand you people and your libidos youre literal fucking aliens

tentacleTherapist  
Alas, I also do not understand you.  
You have previously had sexual interactions in your romantic relationships so I don’t see why you wouldn’t be willing to pursue this relationship.

turntechGodhead  
dude most of the reason tz karkles and i actually managed is because they could fuck like bunnies and i didnt really care  
they did most of the sex and i got mad snuggles and the occasional blow job  
that  
did not exactly happen in any of my other relationships

tentacleTherapist  
I remember. I still plan on getting that note you got in highschool calling you a frigid bitch framed.

turntechGodhead  
jfc you still have that?

tentacleTherapist  
It’s a fucking hilarious trope inversion.

turntechGodhead  
okay yeah i can see that

tentacleTherapist  
Somehow I doubt John would call you a frigid bitch.

turntechGodhead  
yeah probs not but

tentacleTherapist  
But? Are boners scary?  
I suppose he could always drape a tissue over it and call it an homage to Beetlejuice.

turntechGodhead  
jesus rose quit making me laugh i’m trying to be an over dramatic teenager here  
john would actually fucking do that too except probably as a homage to ghostbusters instead  
boy has no taste

tentacleTherapist  
In my many years of study, I have learned that laughter is indeed the best medicine in cases like these.

turntechGodhead  
okay yeah sure

tentacleTherapist  
Did you want to come home for a couple of days? I’m sure Mother would be thrilled to see you.  
Dave?

turntechGodhead  
yeah

===>

You admit it. You’ve been avoiding John. You feel like complete and utter ass but he fucking _kissed you_ at midnight in a beautifully tagged alley like something out of a god damned urban fairy tale. You needed some time to freak out, and like the grown ass adult you are, you did that while hiding in your twin’s bed.

You called in _sick_ to have your sister psychoanalyze you.

It was actually really helpful and now that you have your shit more or less straight you think you’re equipped to actually deal with this.

You hit the buzzer for John’s flat for once, your heart hammering in your throat when he doesn’t reply. Instead, a couple moments later, you see him skip down the steps, barefoot in his pyjamas while he digs through his wallet. He stops dead when he looks up and sees you through the door, slowly putting his wallet into his pocket.

He opens the door for you and you lick your lips to say, “So, ordering take out again?”

“Uh, yeah,” he lets out a tiny, awkward little laugh, “Did you know Jai Thai delivers?”

“Got you hooked then, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugs. There’s a long moment of uncomfortable silence where you both just hover on either side of the door before he adds, “I sort of ordered a lot so, if you wanna like, eat it with me that’d be cool.”

All you can do is gasp out a breathless, “Yeah,” because he’s completely avoiding looking at you, red from his collar to his hairline like he just asked you out on an actual date. You’re giddy and terrified all at once as you brush past him.

He doesn’t seem to be any better. You both obviously know where this is going and it’s just.

Awkward.

“So uh,” you start once you’re both in his apartment, hands still fisted in your jacket pockets, “You and me. With the, the thing. That one time.”

“Um, yeah.”

You’re both standing right in the middle of his floor like complete and utter tools, eyes averted like you’re fifteen and asking to hold hands in a shitty, made for tv Disney movie. You clarify uselessly, “That was a thing that happened.”

“Yep, I -- “ the door buzzer rings again, interrupting John and making you both jump. He snickers a little hysterically, “I should go get that.”

You’re left alone and it’s really not helping you keep from freaking out. You sink down onto his couch, hunched over to burry your face in your hands, focused on your breathing to maybe not completely flip out. You thought you had this all neatly compartmentalized but seeing him again just really fucked that all up.

At least seeing him again hardened your resolve to actually go through with it.

“Uh, Dave?”

You flinch, looking up to see him hovering worriedly by the door, a bag of takeout dangling from his hands. He’s absolutely gorgeous, his steam fogged glasses slid down his nose so he can see over them, his cheeks pink, his lips parted, his hair a mess. You have a section of his folder dedicated to the dozen or so pictures you took where he exhibits this level of gorgeous vulnerability but you never caught this level of panic. It breaks your heart. He’s so sweet and perfect and he’s upset because of you.

The bag crinkles as he clutches his fingers around it a little tighter, his eyes dropping to stare at the floor instead. You can actually see him swallow hard around the words he wants to say, his blush creeping shades darker before he just flat out asks, “Wanna make out?”

“Oh god no,” you spew without thinking, your lungs clenched so hard around your heart you’re surprised you can actually make words to begin with. Not daring to look at him to see his reaction, you backpedal desperately, “I mean, yo smooching’s cool and all but I’m a real southern belle, you gotta like, woo me and shit bro. I can’t be puttin’ out for just anybody, my momma done teach me better ‘n that.”

You dare a quick glance up, hands fisted so tight against your knees you can’t feel your fingers anymore. That’s it. That’s all you can do. Now you just wait and hope to fuck you didn’t make a mistake.

John heaves a sigh, deflating a little. You gnaw your lip practically bloody in apprehension, but he sounds actually relieved when he says, “That’s okay. I’ve never dated a guy before so going slow is probably better anyway.”

“Yeah, uh.”

You don’t know whether you should be happy to hear that or not. You _love_ him; you don’t think you could stand it if it turns out you were just some college aged experimentation but maybe being able to date him chastely for a little while will be worth the heartache when he finally ditches you for being a dude, for being ace. You don’t mind sex and fucking guys is usually easier since you’re at least sort of familiar with the equipment but the fabled intensity of the frat boy libido kind of terrifies you and you know John’s not actually a frat boy but he’s the right age and you just…

He sits gingerly on the couch next to you, very carefully not touching you as he sets his takeout on his makeshift coffee table, the padded crate just big enough to spread the cartons out. You bite your lip at the gorgeous little laugh he lets out when he finds two plastic forks in the bag, saying, “Well, that worked out perfectly, huh?”

He relaxes a little as he hands you one of them, his knee touching yours. His smile when you take the fork is still a little hesitant, a little awkward but not forced. You’re still basically shitting yourself in panic but you’re stupidly convinced that being able to love him unabashedly even just for a little will so totally be worth your constant, lingering heartbreak.


	7. Chapter 7

==>

ectoBiologist  
jade  
jade how do you woo boys?  
please tell me. you’re the one with all the boy dating experience in this family help me.

gardenGnostic  
usually i start with a bit of flexing  
show dave them guns ;DD

ectoBiologist  
aoidhoaihoigahdfoiahaj  
OH GOD I AM FACEPALMING SO HARD  
no jade  
bad sister  
even i know that’s not how you woo someone Dx

gardenGnostic  
ehehehehehe

carcinoGeneticist  
WHY THE EVER LOVING FUCK ARE YOU ASKING *JADE* FOR DATING ADVICE?  
AREN’T YOU AWARE THAT SHE LITERALLY SAID TO ME HEY, YOU’RE CUTE, WANNA FUCK?  
THAT IS ACTUALLY HOW WE STARTED DATING.

ectoBiologist  
aihgoagha h dude i tried so hard to block that I WAS IN THE ROOM WHEN THAT HAPPENED UUUUGH.

carcinoGeneticist  
AND YET, YOU STILL ASKED HER WHAT YOU SHOULD DO IN ORDER TO WOO DAVE.  
HE ACTUALLY USED THE WORD “WOO” DIDN’T HE?

ectoBiologist  
yeah :I

carcinoGeneticist  
JESUS COCK SUCKING CHRIST.  
OKAY. THE FIRST THING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT DATING THE INCREDIBLE PULSING DICK PIMPLE THAT IS DAVE STRIDER IS THAT HIS WHOLE IRONY THING IS REALLY FUCKING STUPID AND BASICALLY A FRONT.  
AND BY BASICALLY I MEAN ACTUALLY.  
HE IS ACTUALLY ENTIRELY SINCERE ABOUT HALF OF THE REALLY WEIRD SHIT HE PLAYS AS IRONIC.

ectoBiologist  
uuuuh no shit?

carcinoGeneticist  
COLOUR ME SURPRISED, YOU *ARE* ACTUALLY OBSERVANT.  
ALTHOUGH HONESTLY, WITH HOW MUCH YOU’VE CREEPED ON HIM I REALLY SHOULDN’T BE SURPRISED.

ectoBiologist  
gee thanks karkat. you’re so incredibly helpful. why didn’t i think of asking you about romance in the first place?

carcinoGeneticist  
YOUR SARCASM WOUNDS ME.

ectoBiologist  
ehehehehe

carcinoGeneticist  
BUT SERIOUSLY, WHY DIDN’T YOU ASK ME FIRST? COUNSELING ANGST RIDDEN IDIOTS ABOUT ROMANCE *IS* MY JOB.

ectoBiologist  
because you’re an ass?  
and idk, it’s kind of weird asking asking someone for romance advice when they’ve dated the person i am currently dating :T  
i mean theoretically? jade said you said that you did but idk if that’s just willful jade thinking or like  
actually what happened

carcinoGeneticist  
I SPENT A GOOD THREE DAYS BEING MERCILESSLY GRILLED OVER ANY AND EVERY DETAIL I COULD MANAGE TO DREDGE UP FROM A POINT IN TIME THAT WAS INCREDIBLY SATURATED WITH THC BECAUSE I AM DATING NOT ONE, BUT TWO DISGUSTING PERVERTS WHO HAVE NO CONCEPT OF THAT WAS FIVE FUCKING YEARS AGO NOT TO MENTION THE UNDERTONE OF IT’S NONE OF THEIR GOD DAMNED BUSINESS.

ectoBiologist  
please tell me my sister does not have a better idea of what my boyfriend’s dick looks like than i do.

carcinoGeneticist  
YOUR BOYFRIEND’S SACRED DICK HAS BEEN SPARED YOUR SISTER’S IMAGINATION.

ectoBiologist  
oh thank god

carcinoGeneticist  
THAT DOES NOT MEAN SHE HASN’T SEEN IT. HE IS A PHOTOGRAPHER WITH AN INCREDIBLE EGO.

ectoBiologist  
aosdihoagaothjoihaf what???

carcinoGeneticist  
HE HAS A TUMBLR YOU KNOW.

===>

ectoBiologist  
oh my god jade why does the internet think i’m so hot??  
OH MY GOD JADE WHY HAS THE ENTIRE INTERNET SEEN MY BOYFRIEND’S DICK THAT  
WHAT

gardenGnostic  
ahahahahhahaha  
ahahahahha aomfg  
welcome to tumblr??????  
where everything is porn and the fandom doesn’t matter ;DDDD

ectoBiologist  
karkat is such a poop licker fuck me  
i’m not going to be able to look dave in the face for WEEKS  
how am i supposed to woo him when all i can think of is his INCREDIBLE DICK

gardenGnostic  
it is a pretty amazing dick huh???

ectoBiologist  
NOT HELPING

gardenGnostic  
you are SUCH virgin X333

ectoBiologist  
that’s not the point!

gardenGnostic  
ahahahahaha  
so what is the point???

ectoBiologist  
the point is my boyfriend has dick pics up all over the internert and this is the first time i’ve actually seen him naked?????

gardenGnostic  
http://24.media.tumblr.com/69c79d0e7e582b14a562c242d30cb13a/tumblr_mhvwveTCOB1ru74s4o1_500.jpg

ectoBiologist  
oh my god jade

gardenGnostic  
ehehehehehe  
well its true??????

ectoBiologist  
it so is!! that’s exactly what dave did the first time i went to his house where he has literally a wall of  
dick pics oh my god why didn’t it occur to me that he’d have things posted on the internet??  
i think i’m just going to go die of embarrassment.

gardenGnostic  
have fun ;DDDD

You don’t jerk off like your sister so obviously assumes. Instead you take a very long, very cold shower and when you finally emerge, you have a text from Dave asking if you’re busy tonight. You’re not, but you’re naked and damp and you just had an eyeful of your boyfriend’s penis so you’d really rather stay in where you can attempt to mack on him without getting embarrassed. You tell him as much and, well. You tell him you’re up to hanging out but you don’t want to go anywhere and he replies with sounds good ill be over in a bit.

The only reason you get dressed is so you can let Dave in. At least, that’s what you tell yourself, because clothes would get in the way of your MASTER SEDUCTION plan. Which really isn’t so much of a plan as it’s an uncomfortably desperate want to actually _do something_. What that something is, exactly, is sort of up in the air at the moment.

Dave arrives within the hour, cheeks flushed with cold, grinning with triumph.

“Guess what I’ve got,” he says, stripping out of his outerwear.

“What?”

“Great guess there, bro,” your _boyfriend_ teases, wiggling the thumb drive he produces at you, “How do you expect me to complete this cutesy ritual if you don’t cooperate?”

You snicker; “Is it something awesome?”

“Hardly. It’s for you, you know, and you’re a huge, lame dork,” Dave snarks back, a restrained smile tilting his lips. You roll your eyes.

“Gee, thanks, Dave. Great to know what you think of me.”

Dave’s grin overtakes his willpower. You have to look away because his smile still gives you butterflies. He nudges you with the thumb drive, poking you in the chest with it, and tells you, “Go set it up, alright?”

You roll your eyes some more and do just that, plugging the drive into your laptop and your laptop into your TV while Dave makes popcorn. You about die laughing when you see the file names.

“You actually found the Ghostbuster cartoon?” you ask. Dave shrugs nonchalantly, leaned up against your counter and you beem at him, “I thought I was the one who’s supposed to do the wooing, not you.”

“It’d be hella rude of me to expect you to do _everything_ ,” he tells you with another shrug. You’re overwhelmed by how sweet your boyfriend is, especially when the microwave finally dings and he drops down onto the couch next to you, sitting sideways with his legs flung over your lap. You start the first episode and he hogs the popcorn and when it’s gone he holds your hand.

It’s a really great sort of date.

===>

ectoBiologist  
i’m really really gay wow  
how did i not notice this before? because wow holy jeeze i am REALLY gay.  
like we haven’t even really done anything more than hold hands but i really want to.  
you know  
do more than hold hands.  
seeing pictures of dave naked does way more for me than seeing any of my ex girlfriends naked so i just  
seriously, how?  
and dave’s way more fun too. we totally spent most of last night watching the freaking ghostbusters cartoon.  
which… really isn’t too much different from before we started dating i guess except with more ghostbusters which is more him wooing me than the other way around.  
like he even needs to woo me at this point.  
i am so down to  
you know  
uuuugh jade  
jade where are you?  
jaaaaade

gardenGnostic  
i was taking a shower jeeze john  
also lol you guys are such dorks x3

ectoBiologist  
yeah….

gardenGnostic  
ominous ellipses….????

ectoBiologist  
ooo  
mammoth ellipses.  
the great migration.

gardenGnostic  
ehehehehe  
the great mammoth ellipses migration aside whats up??  
joooooohn

ectoBiologist  
what if dave doesn’t like me as much as i like him?  
i mean it’s really nice dating someone and not having to act like the couplesty couple to have ever been a couple but…  
we haven’t actually kissed yet but i’m not sure if he’s waiting for me to do it because he’s my first boyfriend and also nice but i’m too much of a chicken shit to do it  
or if he’s just  
not as interested :T

gardenGnostic  
but i thought you already kissed him and that was how you started dating??

ectoBiologist  
i did!  
but i don’t really remember it so it doesn’t count.

gardenGnostic  
hehehehehe

ectoBiologist  
well it doesn’t!  
uuuugh romance is hard.

Romance is extremely hard. Pretty much only having your sister to talk about it with is even harder because wow do you really want to suck your boyfriend’s dick. That is what you meant by really gay. Looking back, you totally realize how much time you spent practically swooning over Matthew McConaughey’s rugged 90’s charm in Contact but even your immense love for some admittedly terrible movies is eclipsed by how much sex you want to have with Dave.

You mean, how much you want to have sex with Dave.

The first one’s pretty applicable too but really, at this point you’d settle with just making out.

===>

You’re sitting next to Dave on a couch in the coffeeshop, one of his thighs plastered against yours while you work your way through a paper. It’s surprisingly not that big of a distraction. He’s warm and very solid against you, which is only distracting if you stop to think about it, otherwise he sort of just reminds you of Bec, except with less doggy snurffling and more being your hot boyfriend.

Eventually you get to the point where you just can’t focus on your paper anymore and you close out of it with a sigh. You’ve gotten enough of it done that taking a break is totally acceptable, especially since you’re usually pretty good about getting things done early. Dave unfurls from his wedged-in position, sitting up straight. His shoulder bumps against yours and he slides one hand across your knee when you lean forward to set your laptop on the table in front of you.

“You done?” he asks. He’s just as deadpan as usual but there’s a tiny upward quirk of his lips makes you really want to kiss him.

You take a fortifying breath, lean in a little, and chicken out at the last moment, brushing your lips against his cheek instead. He snorts, amused, into your ear and squeezes your knee a little. You pull back sheepishly and shrug, “Yeah, for now.”

He’s smiling for real, lopsided and sweet. It makes your stomach flip over and if you hadn't already failed at kissing him, you would so totally. You know. Kiss him for real. On the lips and everything. You're almost tempted to try again anyway, but then he asks, "Wanna go get dinner on the waterfront?"

"Like seafood?" You're not opposed or anything, but seafood tends to be pretty expensive and considering you don't cook...

Dave shrugs, "Yeah, sorta. There's this diner not too far from my studio that's pretty good. Their menu is mostly fish but they've got some chicken and shit too."

"Sounds appetizing."

He thwaps you on the thigh and you laugh, "Hey, never said I wouldn't be down. I like fish."

Dave snickers silently, more a tremble of his shoulders as he exhales than anything, but he closes his e-reader up and tucks it into his bag. You follow suit, sliding your laptop into your own bag, along with a handful of pens and the notebook you keep all your notes in. The two of you head out, waving to Terezi and Nepeta as you go. 

You oh so very casually lace your fingers through Dave's as you cross the street to the bus stop you need. It's not the first time you and Dave have been out of one of your apartments together since you started dating and it's not the first time you've held hands either. It _is_ , however, the first time you've held hands while on a _date_. At least, you assume it's a date. You ask Dave if it is and he laughs, "No shit, it's a date. I've got so many date things planned for tonight, you'll swoon hard enough to fall straight through the earth, not even gonna lie."

"You're so weird," you tell him, snickering. He raises an eyebrow over the edge of his sunglasses at you in return, side eyeing you. You grin at him, privately admiring his profile. It's sort of silly how you still manage to be surprised by just how attractive he is, but wow. He's really gorgeous. You couldn't have bagged yourself a prettier boyfriend if you had tried.

His cold fingers squeeze around yours briefly as he looks away, up the street, watching for the bus. It makes you really happy. Happier than such a tiny action should warrant, you're sure. You don't mind at all, pleased to just... enjoy the little things.

The bus comes and the two of you head down the hill, towards the waterfront. You hold hands the entire time, even though the bus is full enough to have both of you standing, and it really hits you. You're going on a date with Dave! An actual date with fancy food eaten at someplace other than your apartment! Actually realizing this has you giddy. You bump your shoulder against Dave's deliberately and he smiles at you.

Oh man, you should really kiss him. That is absolutely what you should be doing right now. On the list of things that need to be done, there is one item and it is that. You lean in to do so and more of less end up sort of squishing your face to his, off balance from the swaying of the bus. He snorts at your total failure to properly mack on him again, nosing at your jaw instead. You suppose this is an acceptable compromise.

"You are such a derp," he laughs, and you can't take any offense because his voice is low and gorgeous and aimed right into your ear. You shiver pleasantly a little instead, shrugging before he nudges you back, teasing, "Slow down on the PDA there, bro. You're gonna give some poor granny a heart attack with all your slick moves."

"Hey, don't diss my slick moves, you know you're falling for them."

"You're right. Better call life alert because I've fallen so hard and I can't get up."

He says it with such a complete deadpan, lacking in any expression or infection, that you bust up laughing, which makes him have to fight off a grin of his own.

You are so hopelessly in love.

===>

The diner Dave leads you to is, indeed, back towards where his studio is, thusly you have fuckall idea of where that is in relation to anything else. Pioneer Square is just such a mystery to you. The diner is down on one of the piers and everything though.

You get an idea. You get a super amazing idea that would have all sorts of people swooning over you in an instant so you're bound to woo the fuck out of Dave. You even have a bunch of Christmas money left to make it that much more epic, but first, dinner.

===>

You're content letting Dave choose how dinner is paid for, obligingly putting away your wallet when he makes a prim shooing motion, covering the bill himself in its entirety. You have bigger fish to fry (which is extra funny because you had fried fish).

It's the middle of the week at the tail end of freaking January, so while the streets aren't empty, there are way fewer people out than there would be on the weekend, and waaaaay fewer people than when you and your family went out to do the thing you're planning to take Dave to do.

Outside the diner, you take his hand again, swinging your arm and his as you ask, "Hey, wanna go to the Ferris wheel?"

"Seriously?"

"Why not?" you shrug, "You did say to woo you."

Dave snickers, looking away as he grins. You continue to swing your conjoined arms as the two of you walk down the sidewalk.

"You're a dork," he tells you, bumping his shoulder against yours.

"Is that a yes?"

He smirks, head tilted your way with one eyebrow raised, "No shit. Consider me wooed, dude."

His word makes your chest swell and you hop happily off the curb, following Dave as he takes over navigating. You wiggle your eyebrows at your boyfriend when you turn up in the right place hardly a couple blocks later.

"Did you plan this?" you tease. Dave inhales in the way you've learned means he's rolling his eyes, shaking his head just slightly.

"Whatever made you think that?" He asks, sarcasm dripping from his words.

You snort, "You're adorable."

"Damn straight, the most kawaii."

"The kawaii-iest."

That has Dave making a gross choking noise that grows into snickers, his shoulders shaking. You grin and detangle your fingers from his. He doesn’t follow you to the ticket booth, instead squinting up at the ferris wheel with his sunglasses flipped up into his hair. It’s well past dark, but it’s still bright out, even here on the pier. Street lights and bright restaurant signs line the peir and the ferris wheel itself glows brilliantly. The mix of colours lights Dave up from all sides, the bright white from the ferris wheel making him look ghostly while the yellow neon for the carosel turns his faded pink hair rosey gold.

You buy the tickets. In fact, you buy the VIP tickets, blowing the last of your Christmas money on this date. It’s worth it though. You just know this’ll sweep Dave off his feet.

The ferris wheel circles ‘round and you and Dave are ushered into your gondola soon enough. Dave sputters, “You’re fucking kidding me,” grinning when he sees which one you’re about to step into. You step up and turn around, holding your hand out to him. He takes it delicately, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s still grinning as you pull him into the gondola.

It’s cushy inside, well worth the price tag, especially since you get it all to yourself. Just you and your smoking hot, super dorky boyfriend. He makes a beeline towards the sound system, poking it until he finds an AUX cord, then fumbling for his phone. You’re hardly on your way up before he gets thick, thumping bass pumping through the speakers. You grin and sink into one of the leather seats.

Dave turns on his heel, flopping back into the seat across from you, one elbow perched on top of the stereo, chin cradled in his palm. His cheek is a little squished against his fingers, making his little grin that much cuter.

“You’re a nerd,” he says. His glasses are still perched on top of his head, dusty pink hair fanning out under the dark glass. You kick your legs, nudging the toes of your shoes against the side of his. He kicks you back because a romantic ferris wheel date totally means footsie.

He nicks you in the side of the shin harder than he probably means too and laughs when you jerk back and shoot him a dirty look. Then he’s stepping across the gap, one knee coming down between your thighs to rest on the edge of your seat. You’re at the very top of the ferris wheel’s arch, the city lights on one side and the bay out on the other.

When Dave leans down to brush his lips over yours, it’s perfect.

You press your lips more firmly against Dave’s, one hand coming up to slide around to the back of his neck. You can feel him smile against your mouth and a little bit of stubble under your thumb and when you suck on one of his lips and he opens his mouth to you, he tastes like cherry soda and it’s perfect.

The two of you kiss like that, slow and sweet, for a really long time. The song Dave put on when you first entered the gondola thrums through it and through you. You want to smooth your hands down his sides, pull him into your lap and his hips against yours but you don’t because wooing is the thing going on here. Wooing, not stealthy dick touching in a mostly public place.

The ferris wheel slows to a stop with your gondola at the bottom and Dave pulls away from you with a quiet, content sigh. He flips his shades down and turns back to where his phone is plugged into the sound system, completely unflustered. You have no fucking clue how he does it, the whole being completely unflustered by everything always thing. You clamber out behind him on weak knees, half hard and breathing just a little too quick.

You don’t miss the knowing look you get from the gondola operator, which is totally unfair because you didn’t _do_ anything! You still feel like you turn a spectacular shade of red as you shuffle faster to catch up with Dave.

===>

You’re a little frustrated when Dave hops off the bus at the stop closest to his place, pecking you on the cheek before he goes. You have to remind yourself that you’ve barely hit tier two and, as much as you’d like to hurry and climb all the way to tier fifteen, you’re wooing Dave. Wooing takes time. You totally get this.

It’s still a little frustrating.

The bus you’re on loops around instead of going directly by your building, crossing your street at fifteenth. You wait it out, putter around the Safeway right there while you debate on picking up some delicious, distracting snacks, and then walk the three blocks down to your apartment. Your lips still tingle from making out with your boyfriend (!!!) and you decide, you know what, fuck it. Dave’s your _boyfriend_. You’re totally allowed to think of him while you jerk off. In fact, it’d be kind of rude not to!

You drop your unneeded distraction snacks in the little nook where your fridge is where you’re not going to accidentally step on them before you toe out of your shoes and shimmy your jeans down your legs. You hesitate before grabbing your laptop to bring up to your loft with you. It’s not that you’re going to _need_ it for anything, but it’s still early enough in the night for you to maybe fuck around on the internet once you’re done.

You’re not actually hard when you slide your hand into your boxers. That changes pretty quickly when you think back on how Dave kissed you. It was… well, amazing is a bit of an understatement in this case. He kisses lazily, like there’s all the time in the world, like he’s the embers left after a bonfire, not doing a whole lot but so totally capable of roaring to life with just the right breeze.

You could so be that breeze. You’d totally love to be that breeze. This whole metaphor has gotten away from you but still. Getting Dave off is right at the top of the list of things you want to do.

And you’ve seen him naked enough to not have much trouble imagining doing so.

There’s a lot of things you’re really eager to do with Dave, to do _to_ Dave. Having him stretched out and naked under you would be a rad start. You know what each of his tattoos looks like. You’ve even felt the difference between his skin and the pitch black ink feathers down the back of his arms. You don’t, however, know how they taste or if your beard will tickle him when you kiss the rose petals on his chest or the birds on his hips.

You don’t know if he’ll squirm ( _oh please_ ) or how much he’ll moan ( _hopefully plenty_ ). You’re sure he’ll make stupid jokes and try to keep his shades on, maybe duckface at inopportune moments just to make you giggle. There’s no way your first time will be anything less than great because you just… love him so freaking much! Anything that happens will be great because this is _Dave_ you’ll be doing these things with!

Things like biting his neck, his slender, bony hips slotted against yours, his dick hot and hard and throbbing, pinned up against your stomach while you grind together. Things like him tonguefucking you stupid again but with far more privacy and way fewer clothes. Maybe with his hand on your dick, long, slender fingers wrapped around you.

Maybe also things like… you blowing him.

You still turn stupidly pink at the thought, which is totally dumb because while your brain is in the midst of being awkward baby about it, your dick throbs against your hand. You’ve always liked the idea of being very… attentive towards whomever you ended up in bed with. Oral totally fits in with that premise but you’re still doing the thing where you freak out over how gay you actually are.

In a good way at least.

You are going to be so enthusiastic over sucking your boyfriend’s dick if how hard just the thought of doing so makes you is any indication. Dave’s got a really nice looking dick in your fairly limited expertise. Pretty much everything about Dave is really nice so there’s no reason for his dick to be any different really, but holy shit is it nice. Him actually being hard is bound to only make it better. You could kiss it and tongue at the slight line where his circumcision scar is and maybe suck away the precome beaded at the tip. Okay, no. No maybes. You totally would. You would and Dave would groan and it’d stick to your lips and draw wet lines like spiderwebs the way it does to your fingers when you jerk off and it'd be great.

You smear the bit of precome oozing from you with your thumb, licking your lips. You think it's pretty safe to say that blowing Dave is the first thing you're going to do once the two of you get to the point where sex is a thing you're having. Or maybe sooner since you could totally suck his dick without also fucking.

You wonder briefly what Dave's preferences are, whether he likes being, cough, catcher or pitcher but you quickly decide that it probably doesn't really matter to you. You just want _Dave_. 

(You could, maybe, get something to figure out what _your_ preference in the matter is, oh god.)

Dave under you, gasping your name. Dave over you, straddling your hips. Dave standing in front of you while you're on your knees, his skin tight jeans peeled open and tugged down his thighs and his hands in your hair.

You swallow hard and bite your the inside of your cheek as you imagine his dick against your lips. Your own dick throbs in time with your heartbeat as you squeeze it, your hand sliding over turgid flesh. You bring your other hand to your mouth, dipping two fingers into your mouth as you think about wrapping your lips around the head of Dave’s dick. It’s completely different, you’re sure, but you’re still a little surprised at your lack of hesitance.

It ends up being less about you practicing by sucking on your fingers and more about having a tangible extension of your fantasy. Your fingers feel almost heavy against your tongue, naturally curling down to pin it to the bottom of your jaw, and your breath is _so hot_ against the back of your knuckles as you pant. You don’t pause to think about how great that’d feel against your own dick, you go straight on to how you hope Dave would groan and shiver at the sensation.

That’s the one thing you can’t actually imagine. Dave’s so quiet, his voice carefully measured for whatever the situation happens to be, besides the couple of times you’ve surprised him into too-loud laughter. You’ve never even heard him groan while stretching or something! You can’t decide if you think he’s more likely to be spectacularly noisy or if he’s pretty much dead silent but so expressive in other ways.

You think either way would be amazing.

Mostly because, really, you think Dave is amazing.

In your mind, he gasps your name and you swallow around him, around your fingers. It's enough to set you off.


	8. Chapter 8

===>

You can’t believe you didn’t figure out that hey, you’re actually pretty gay earlier in life. Aren’t people supposed to _know_ that sort of thing? Yet here you are, in your twenties and still a virgin because, somehow, you spent your teenagerhood convinced of your straightness.

All you want to do -- all you can think about -- is sucking your boyfriend’s dick. You haven’t thought this much about sex since you first hit puberty, and even then you didn’t think about it with this much detail! And Dave is so utterly deadpan, you can’t even begin to tell if he’s thinking about sex anywhere near as much as you are. Asking is out of the question too; Dave is (a huge dork but) cool and gorgeous and totally way more experienced than you are. Revealing your virgin status wouldn’t make him break up with you or anything, but he’s sweet enough to maybe think you want to go even slower than you already are when it comes to relationship things, which is exactly the opposite of what you want!

===>

Dave is too gorgeous. You haven’t actually jerked off to any of his pictures -- they’re mostly all not that sexy, even if he is, and the ones that _are_ sexy are all with girls and that’s not really your thing (how did you ever think you were straight??). You have definitely jerked off to the thought of him influenced by those pictures, but that’s totally different.

He really is too gorgeous though. All long limbs and slender bones. His pointy hip bones are gorgeous (you want to bite where they protrude when he’s flat on his back). His long legs and well defined thighs are gorgeous (you want them wrapped around your hips or between your legs or framing your head -- you’re not really picky). All his tattoos are just as gorgeous as he is (you want to taste each one). His long neck and sharp collarbone are gorgeous (you want to leave marks on him so the whole world can see that he’s yours). His long, bony fingers are gorgeous (you want to feel them wrapped around your dick or maybe, maybe! In you?).

You just really want to have sex with him.

===>

You worry that all your thinking on Dave’s naked body makes you shallow. Or maybe, you think he’d think you’re shallow? You’ve thought so much about his looks it’s kind of weirding _you_ out. Where’s the line between normal sexual attraction to your boyfriend and creepy stalker thinking?

===>

You really need to just buck the fuck up and have sex with your boyfriend already. You’re flipping out way too hard with how much you’ve been over thinking things. It’s starting to affect your school work and as much a you like the idea of having sex, you’d really rather not flunk out of your classes this semester.

===>

Oh god, what if your interest in Dave _is_ just you doing the whole college experimentation thing? What if, after you have sex with him, you lose interest?? So many people would kill you dead. So dead. Ultra dead.

===>

What if you have sex and _Dave_ loses interest? Oh god, you’d be crushed even worse than when you thought Dave was with Aradia. You’d be heartbroken. You don’t think Dave’s the type to just be after sex but what do you know? You’re a _virgin_.

===>

What if Dave breaks up with you because you’re not having sex? You mean, he _was_ the one to ask that the two of you take your relationship slow but it wouldn’t be the first time one of your relationships failed because you didn’t put out.

===>

What if you’re just plain bad at sex?????????

===>

Dave is wedged in next to you on your tiny couch, fingers running down your notes as he helps you study. His thigh is warm and solid against yours. You are, surprisingly, managing to answer the pseudo quiz questions he asks you even though you’re totally also thinking about him being naked.

This is getting totally ridiculous. You should just, like, stick your hand down his pants or something already, jeeze.

You don’t because you’re pretty sure that would not be sexy. You do droop dramatically over the arm of the couch and groan, “Break time,” instead. Dave snorts but dutifully closes your notebook. You bet he’s on to your master seduction plan. You did sort of totally expose your throat, which is sexy?

(You have no idea what you’re doing.)

“Thought you were supposed to be smart,” Dave teases.

You roll your eyes. “I _am_ smart, but there’s only so much science my brain take in at one time, especially if I’ve got you to look at.”

Dave snickers at your enthusiastic eyebrow waggles, complete with a lopsided, teeth showing smile. You can feel your pulse pick up.

“You fucking goob,” he laughs with a little shake of his head. You lean in towards him, still wiggling your eyebrows with a big shit eating grin. He wheezes with laughter and shoves your face away.

“No, come on!” you whine, “I did well; you should totally reward me with kisses.”

Dave rolls his eyes but he still leans in to press a delicate smooch right on your face. You follow it up by leaning in even closer to kiss him more firmly. You can feel him grin before he kisses back with a series of close mouthed kisses, his lips against yours.

You catch his top lip gently between your teeth and relish the way his breath hitches. He sucks on your bottom lip in return, tongue peeking out to coax your mouth open. You groan and shift to kneel on the couch, hovering over him. The way he smoothly leans back against the arm of the couch, pliant under you, makes all your blood rush south. Him sliding his long, slender fingers through the hair at the back of your neck to urge you closer really doesn’t help. Or it really helps, you guess, depending on how you view things.

Point is, you are totally sporting a massive boner while being two steps away from pinning your boyfriend to the couch while making out with him. Your master seduction plan has been a massive success so far.

You keep at that, your lips parting for his tongue, kissing lazily. Something can really be said for taking your time and that something is that it’s really great. Dave’s mouth moves expertly against yours, coaxing all sorts of noises from you. You don’t let yourself be embarrassed (or, at least, not much) by how needy you sound since he happily swallows them all, fingers stroking your jaw. 

Dave is so relaxed under you. It really helps you not freak out. In fact, you think you can actually go through with things without your brain being dumb at you. Your breath has picked up a noticeable amount as you kiss him harder, tongue curling behind his teeth. Dave lets out this tiny, breathy moan at that and your toes curl too.

The two of you are so close now, close enough that your chests almost brush together when you breathe in sync. You’re definitely pinning him down now. He’s boxed in with your arms to either side of him and you’re locked in place in turn, with his thighs on either side of your hips (right where you want them) and his hands on the back of your neck. You could not be more turned on if you tried.

It feels like there’s just the two of you in the whole world. Everything's warm and it almost feels like your blood is vibrating with how much your entire body tingles. A distant part of you thinks, no wonder sex is so hyped up. You roll your hips against Dave’s for the first time and…

Your stomach gives a comically loud grumble.

Dave sporfles against your lips, which is both really cute and kind of gross, and the moment is lost. You groan an intense, defeated groan and roll off of him, straight onto the floor. Dave laughs even harder, limbs splayed willy nilly. 

“You fucking goob,” he tells you, grinning. You just groan again, even louder.

===>

For the most part, things between you and Dave haven’t actually changed all that much. You still do the same things you’ve been doing together for the past (only, wow) six or so months. The big difference is you get to hold his and and kiss his face and, every now and then, intensely make out.

So it’s really hard to go on official dates since you pretty much spend all your time together anyway. You and Dave are walking back from the Indian place a couple blocks away on Broadway and, despite it being the end of an Actual Date, it feels like any other night. You’re holding hands and full of food and very happy. For a moment, sex is the last thing on your mind.

Then you’re standing on the porch of your building and Dave leans in to kiss you goodnight. It’s just like some dumb teen romcom and it _should_ feel like the most natural thing in the world to invite him up to your apartment but the words get stuck in your throat so you don’t. You end up sort of awkwardly waving as he bounds down the steps.

Once you’re inside, you thump your head against the door, aghast at your gutlessness.

===>

You probably shouldn’t, but you think John is fucking adorable when he’s drunk. He gets extra cuddly, leaning against you like you’re the only solid thing in the world, and he zones out with the dopiest look on his face. It’s stupid cute.

He’s drunk more than he probably should so you casually suggest, “You should come home with me.” You totally mean so he’s close to a bathroom should he need to barf, not because you totally want to take advantage of his drunken warmth and koala clinging.

John beams.

“Sure!” he chirps, practically draping himself across your shoulder to wiggle his eyebrows right in your face. You snicker and plant your palm on his snout to push him and his salacious eyebrows away. He adds, “Ready whenever you are.”

“Then let’s bounce and maybe you won’t have to puke this time.”

“Maybe,” he repeats as he scoots out of the booth. You follow him out of the bar, hand on the small of his back to keep him going the right direction.

It’s as cold as Satan’s ballsack outside and raining to boot. You button up your hastily thrown on jacket, then John’s. He swats at your hands.

“I’m just going to take it off when we get there,” he tells you, as if the sky was clear and sunny. You kiss him, which shuts him up well enough for you to zip him up the rest of the way without protest. He just grins at you like a derp.

“C’mon,” you say. You lace your fingers with his and step out from under the slight overhang just outside the bar’s door.

It’s not raining hard enough to soak through your jacket, thankfully, but it’s misty and you actually have to take off your shades to see, nevermind that it’s nearly midnight. Between the alcohol and the water droplets on his glasses, you’re pretty sure the only reason John is still on the sidewalk is because you’ve got a solid grip on him. The thought warms your heart and you can’t fight off the dumb smile you give him. He grins brightly back at you as the two of you walk towards your apartment.

Fifteen minutes later, you can barely feel your fingers, but you’re out of the rain and headed down the stairs to your apartment. Or you would be, if John would stop nudging you against the wall to kiss. He did it right inside the door of your building for a quick two kisses before stumbling down the hall, only do it again in the stairwell and again on the landing just before your floor. By the time he pins you to the wall within reach of your door, he’s hard and you’re giggling like mad.

He sucks on your bottom lip before he asks into your mouth, “Is Aradia home?”

Sex then. Okay. It’s the first time he’s even broached the topic with you, even after, what, a month and a half of dating? You’re cool with that. You bump your hips against his and smugly enjoy the way his breath hitches.

“Nope,” you answer simply. He buries his face against your neck and groans, pressed tight against you for a second before he pulls away and herds you to your front door. You laugh as you dig your keys out of your pocket to unlock the door.

You just barely get the door shut and locked behind you before he’s on you, hands on your hips and tongue in your mouth, guiding you backwards towards your bed with a surprising amount of skill. A lesser man would have probably creamed himself but you just kiss him back and fight the urge to literally applaud him. He practically rips his jacket off, breaking your kiss to pull it over his head instead of just unzipping it and then his mouth is right back on yours, warm and wet. He fumbles at the buttons of your jacket and you think it’s fucking adorable how all his focus is going towards devouring your face. You grin against his lips and take pity on him. Your coat ends up in a heap on in the middle of the floor, just like his.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and you plop down on your ass. John is quick to climb into your lap, straddling your legs more than your hips, and you think, this is nice. You like the fervent way he kisses you, quick and sure, warm hands on your cheeks or your jaw or your throat. You like the little bit of distance between your bodies, far enough that you could jerk him off comfortably but close enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off his body.

His hands skate down your chest, knuckles just brushing your crotch before grabs the hem of your shirt. You pull it off before he tries and he beams at you. You can’t help but snicker, especially since he tries to smooch you quiet.

“This okay?” he asks. You fucking die at the question.

The fact that he asked, that he checked in with you makes all the difference to your poor ace heart. You did good, going forward with dating him. Good job past you.

“Yeah.”

He grins like a doof again and almost falls off your fucking lap when he goes to take his shirt off. You make the executive decision to have him lay down.

“No, Dave,” he whines, “I’m still wearing shoes.”

You still knock him over to lay down, shimmying out from under his legs to stand at his feet. His shoes slip off easily enough. You drop them to the floor and toe yours off too, watching John watch you. He's slack jawed, dumbfounded like you're the most incredible thing he's ever seen. You can see how hard his dick is even though his loose jeans and with the hazy streetlight pouring in through your blinds, painting him with stripes, _he's_ the most incredible thing _you've_ seen. Your fingers itch for your camera.

His hands dart to the fly of his jeans, fingers undoing the button. The roll of his hips as he shucks his pants is gorgeous, everything from the hair drawing a dark line from his waistband to his navel, to the softness of his belly, to the hard jut of his cock as it's released from the confines of his jeans. You sear the image of him into your brain and promise yourself you'll recreate it to capture him on film.

"Like what you see?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows. You grin.

"I guess you're okay."

He sputters with laughter and reaches out to drag you down to join him. You go along happily, your legs and fingers tangling with his.

It's a little awkward to kiss while lying down facing each other but you make do. You hold hands with the arms you're laying on while his free hand dances along your bare side, brushing over your ribs and your stomach and your nipple. He touches you basically everywhere he can reach above the belt and you can tell he's a little nervous and that he has no idea what to do with a guy, but it's nice. You could do this for ages.

He scoots towards you just a little before he pulls your hips to his. The friction against the chub you have is enough to make your breath catch but John full out groans. The way the noise reverberates through his mouth and into yours where your lips are still locked together makes your toes curl.

Then he whines, "You're not hard!"

You shrug and kiss him like it doesn't matter because it kind of doesn't, not to you. It apparently matters a ton to him because he pulls away and frowns sadly at you.

"Am I not doing it right?" he asks, face twisted up with worry.

You have to really try to not laugh when you assure him, "You're doing great."

"But you're not hard!"

"It's not a big deal, I'll get there," you promise.

"But it is a big deal!" he tells you, a little too loud for how close he is, "I'm a virgin, Dave! I have no idea what I'm doing and it's obvious because I can't get you hard! Sex is a biologically ingrained function, it’s not supposed to be hard!”

“I think in this case, being hard would probably help,” you snicker. He shoots you the most hilariously done face you’ve ever seen on him.

“Ha ha, very funny Dave,” he deadpans. You kiss the tip of his nose but it doesn’t alleviate his frown. He sighs hard; “Am I like, doing a bad job?”

You kiss him again, full on the mouth, and tell him, “Naw, babe. Lil’ Dave just needs some direct attention to get up.”

“You sure?” he asks.

“Pinky swear.” 

You waggle your pinky at him. He rolls his eyes but crooks his pinky around yours anyway.

“So I just have to touch it?”

“Yup. Or not; we can just keep kissing if you want.”

He licks his lips, eyes difinitively pointed down towards your crotch. The tips of his fingers linger on your stomach as, you guess, he works up the courage to just touch your snot rocket already. It almost tickles when his fingers slide down your happy trail. He just barely skims over your dick through your jeans when the door opens. John droops and muffles a loud, anguished groan with your mattress.

Aradia happily chirps, “Sorry!” and you just know she knows what she just interrupted.

“I’m going to die a virgin,” John grumbles. You awkwardly pat him on the shoulder and do your best to stifle your laughter.

===>

You wake up with a thumping headache and a fuzzy feeling mouth when Aradia walks through the room to the kitchen. You groan. You remember exactly what happened last night and it is unbelievably embarrassing.

Dave scoots up behind you and cuddles close, sighing happily against the back of your neck. The full body contact has his dick pressed against your ass and he is definitely, one-hundered percent hard. Your dick goes from zero to sixty in half a heartbeat.

Aradia flicks on the sink, presumably to fill the coffee maker. You sigh.

“You know what sounds good?” Dave says, “Beth’s.”

“Beth’s always sounds good.”

“True facts. We should go to Beth’s.”

You roll over to face him, pointedly keeping your hips away from his so you don’t get distracted. You ask, “Do you really want to bus all the way out there though?”

“Dude,” he gives you a look like you just said something stupid, “For Beth’s, I’d bus anywhere.”

He has a point.

“Can we stop by my place first so I can change clothes?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dave smooches you, “The forty-three goes straight downtown where the E is.”

He crawls over you to get dressed. You don’t even try to hide the fact that you’re staring, mostly at his crotch where is dick is still hard. The way he rolls his hips to pull his jeans over his ass will haunt your fantasies for ages. It takes way more effort that you’d like to admit to drag your eyes away and look for your pants. Thankfully, Dave wanders into the bathroom, forcing you to look somewhere other than at his dick.

The walk to your apartment starts off kind of uncomfortable. You’re still mostly hard and walking with a boner is never fun, but eventually it goes away. By the time you actually reach your apartment to change into clean clothes, your thoughts are completely occupied by the biscuits and gravy you’re going to order for breakfast.

Thirty minutes on the bus later, you’re seated in the booth with crayons, paper, and your boyfriend. Neither one of you has to actually look at the menu to order. You spend the next hour watching him go from drawing dumb, shitty comics to doodling your face surprisingly realistically.

“I didn’t know you could actually draw,” you say through a mouth full of delicious, delicious gravy soaked biscuit. He tilts his face up enough to point his shades at you and raises his eyebrows behind them.

“I’m a man of many talents,” he tells you.

You wiggle your eyebrows, “Oh really?”

“I can rub my belly and pat my head at the same time too.”

You snort-laugh and he smiles at you.

“I went to an art college, dude, of course I know how to draw. It was supposed to be my major.”

“Really?” That’s so cool!

The corner of his mouth ticks up a bit more. He probably thinks your excitement over this is cute. He hums an affirmation and continues, “I decided I liked photography better than painting so I switched majors a year in, but I did still minor in fine arts. How do you think I met Fef?”

“I had no idea, dude,” you laugh, “I just thought you knew everybody.”

“Yep, that’s me. So many people on my friend’s list I hit facebook’s friend cap.”

You snicker then ask, “How _did_ you meet her?”

“She came to my first show. She’s a Cornish alumni too and there was a gallery displaying a bunch of freshmen work and she stopped by opening night. Aradia went with me as my date for the night and she fucking ditched me to follow this pretty girl around who she somehow made friends with, and after the show she came with us to the Hurricane,” Dave brushes his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, half grinning as he reminisces, “I ended up nerding out over an artist I follow on tumblr, which turned out to be Fef, and all she did was chin hand and grin, and at the end of the night she took a selfie with me. I find it the next morning on instagram tagged _met a fan_ and I just about fucking died.

“And then, of course, she and Aradia end up dating.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I will never be allowed to forget the time I was a huge fucking nerd in front of my senpai.”

===>

carcinoGeneticist  
SO I HEARD YOU ALMOST GOT LAID.

ectoBiologist  
uuuugh stupid jade DX

carcinoGeneticist  
YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW THAT SHE DOESN’T KEEP MUCH FROM US.

ectoBiologist  
i know but still.  
you’d think my sister would keep SOME things to herself.  
bluh.

carcinoGeneticist  
DON’T TELL HER STUFF YOU DON’T WANT HER TO SHARE.  
SERIOUSLY. DON’T.  
I DON’T ACTUALLY WANT TO HEAR MY GIRLFRIEND TALK ABOUT HOW PROUD SHE IS OF HER BABY BROTHER HAVING SEX.

ectoBiologist  
almost having sex.

carcinoGeneticist  
WHAT THE FUCK EVER.  
POINT IS IT’S NOT MY IDEAL TOPIC OF CONVERSATION.

ectoBiologist  
yeah.  
sigh.

carcinoGeneticist  
I AM GOING TO REGRET THIS BUT  
WHAT?

ectoBiologist  
the almost part! ugh.

carcinoGeneticist  
SO YOU GOT COCKBLOCKED. IT HAPPENS.

ectoBiologist  
yeah but it probably wouldn’t have happened if i wasn’t such a virgin. ugh.

carcinoGeneticist  
JOHN, LISTEN.  
IMAGINE THIS. WE’RE SITTING TOGETHER. I’M HOLDING ONE OF YOUR HANDS AND PATTING IT GENTLY WITH SYMPATHY.  
EXCEPT I’M NOT BECAUSE I’M ROLLING MY EYES SO HARD THEY FALL OUT OF MY FUCKING SKULL.  
MAN THE FUCK UP AND DO YOUR BOYFRIEND IF YOU WANT IT SO BAD.

ectoBiologist  
but i don’t know how!

carcinoGeneticist  
…  
I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE YOU’RE SERIOUS.  
DO YOU, OR DO YOU NOT, HAVE A FUCKING PENIS.

ectoBiologist  
uuuh…

carcinoGeneticist  
FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES I AM JUST GOING TO PRETEND YOU SAID “YES” AND GET ON WITH THIS.  
YOU HAVE A DICK. HE HAS A DICK. TOUCH HIS DICK LIKE YOU WOULD TOUCH YOUR DICK.  
IT’S NOT THAT HARD.

ectoBiologist  
i know!  
but what if i’m bad at it?

 

twinArmageddons  
ii don’t know what you 2aid two kk two make hiim beat hii2 head agaiin2t the table but keep iit up iit’2 funny a2 fuck.

 

gardenGnostic  
john quit being dumb  
i think karkat might cry because of how dumb youre being O:

ectoBiologist  
gee, thanks sis.

 

ectoBiologist  
yeah, okay, i get it. i’m being dumb.

carcinoGeneticist  
YOU THINK?  
HOLY SHIT JOHN, I THINK THAT IS THE DUMBEST THING I HAVE EVER BEEN SUBJECTED TO.  
THANKS.  
BUT SERIOUSLY. PRACTICE, YOU DENSE MOTHERFUCKER. PRACTICE IS HOW YOU KNOW YOU’RE NOT BAD AT IT, AND I ASSUME YOU TUG YOUR KNOB OFTEN ENOUGH THAT YOU’RE ADEQUATE AT TOUCHING DICKS.  
NOW IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME, I’M GOING TO GO DROWN MYSELF IN THE BATHTUB BECAUSE THE ABSOLUTE LAST THING I WANTED TO THINK ABOUT TODAY IS *YOU* AND *YOUR DICK*.

 

gardenGnostic  
do you really think you’ll be bad at touching daves junk?????????

ectoBiologist  
shut up.

gardenGnostic  
thats so cute X3  
its totally okay to want to do a good job getting your partner off  
it makes you super considerate!  
and thats a good thing!!

ectoBiologist  
uuuuuuuugh.

gardenGnostic  
do you want some tips??? because i can do that

ectoBiologist  
uuuuuuuuuuuugh no jade that’s weird Dx

gardenGnostic  
its only weird if you make it weird gosh

ectoBiologist  
no it’s still pretty weird.  
i am kind of your brother. i don’t want to know how you go about touching your boyfriends sexually.  
there is no way to make that not weird.

gardenGnostic  
if you say so :T

ectoBiologist  
i do say so!

gardenGnostic  
go watch some porn then!!!!  
i cant imagine touching another boys dick is a whole lot different than touching yours!!!!

ectoBiologist  
...  
i’m logging out now.

gardenGnostic  
if i can figure it out im sure you can too :DDD  
i believe in you!!!!!!

===>

You only had morning classes today and it’s Dave’s day off, so you head over to his place once you’re done on campus. He buzzes you in and texts you [d]doors unlocked playing vidya games[/d]. You laugh as you head down the stairs, through the halls, and into his apartment. Dave’s laying on his bed with his DS held over his head.

“You know,” you say, “That’s a good way to get hit with your Nintendo product.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Many a pair of shades have been lost to the might of Nintendo.”

You snicker, “Dork.”

“Yup.” He arches his neck to look at you upside down, grinning one of his cute, understated grins. He ask, “How was class?”

“Long,” you say, drawing out the word as you slide your backpack off your shoulder and onto the floor. You drop to one knee and lean over him to spiderman kiss. He grins against your mouth.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he parrots back.

“How was your day?” you ask.

Dave rolls over onto his stomach and duck faces at you. “Better now that you’re here.”

You d’aww at him and he punches you in the arm. You detect a blush just barely there on his face. He’s so cute.

You settle on the floor next to his bed and dig out the books you need for today’s homework. Dave goes back to playing his game -- a Zelda game, you think -- with his arms draped over the edge of the bed, DS on the floor next to you. The company and the quiet game music has you blasting through your work.

A little while later, you stretch your back and check your watch. You find it’s been nearly an hour and a half since you got here. Usually, when you work on your homework at Dave’s, you get distracted a bunch by Dave and Aradia talking.

“Is Aradia not here?” 

“Nope, working.”

You turn your head, lick your lips and ask, “Wanna make out?”

Dave breathes a laugh. You bump your forehead against his temple and wiggle your eyebrows at him. He, in turn, twists to smooch you, getting you on the corner of your mouth. You laugh this time and the two of you shuffle around to get better situated for the ensuing sloppy makeouts.

You end up on the bed with him, sitting side by side, twisted at the waist with your knees touching. You cup his cheek with one hand, the other bracing you on the bed, and kiss him tenderly. The moment is perfect.

Dave makes this little noise in the back of his throat when you suck on his lip that makes you hot all over. You shift to bring one foot under your butt to better lean into him. His hands slide behind your neck, thumbs brushing the sensitive spot behind your ears as he strokes them over your skin.

 _He_ leans into _you_ , pushing you back onto the bed and straddling your hips. Your boner springs to life. Dave settles over you, propped up on one arm while his other hand smooths down your chest. You swallow hard, hips arching up against your will. He laughs another breathy laugh. You flush.

“Shut up,” you groan.

Dave laughs, “Dude, _you_ shut up.” He swoops down to kiss you. “And stop being so cute.”

You stick your tongue out at him and he laughs harder. He sits back, ass hovering over your dick. Your toes curl.

He sits like that for a moment, cheeks flushed, lips parted, just looking at you for a long while.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” he says, sounding amazed.

You flush darker, but grin anyways as you thank him. He drags his hands down your chest again to thumb at the space where your shirt has ridden up. He licks his lips, observing you.

You can just about see the lightbulb pop up over his head before he clambers off you.

You whine his name, head thrown back, but it’s completely unsexy. “Dave, come _on_.”

“Hold on, jeeze.” Dave pops back into sight with one of his cameras in hand, pink collar to hairline. He shrugs awkwardly and asks, “Would you mind if..?”

“Uh--” is your very eloquent answer.

“I mean,” he backtracks, “I won’t show anyone without your okay, it’s just -- you’re gorgeous, you really are, and I can’t stop thinking about you like this and I _really_ want to capture you on film because you’re just -- so hot.”

You’re just as pink as him now, mortified but somehow also really turned on by his idea. You manage to croak, “Personal jerk off material?”

“Something like that.” He manages to turn even pinker than before. You have no idea how he’s even standing with that much blood in his face _and_ his dick. He hastily continues, “You don’t have to; I completely understand if you don’t. I mean, it’s kind of really fucking weird, especially since, you know, you’ve never done it with a guy.”

“Will you show me?”

Dave sputters, “The pictures?”

“No Dave,” you roll your eyes, “I don’t mean the pictures.”

He laughs, relaxing enough to take off his shades and gently toss them into the pile of clothes next to his bed.

“You really want to seem them?”

“Well, yeah.” You sit up a bit, propped up on your elbows to look at him better; “You’re an amazing photographer and you’re really good at, uh, the sexy bit and -- “ you blush and look anywhere but at him, “ -- it’s kind of hot that you want to. Of me, I mean.”

Dave’s answer is to just raise his camera to his face, twist the lense focus, and snap a picture. You’re doing this. You’re making this happen.

You freeze awkwardly but Dave says, “Just do whatever comes natural.” His voice is low and honey warm. It makes your stomach flip and your dick throb. Your face heats up and you automatically cover it with one hand. The click of Dave’s camera only serves to embarrass you more, but in an entirely exhilarating way.

You flop back onto the bed and -- snap -- roll your hips -- snap -- only to cover your face again. Dave takes a picture of that too.

“You’re doing great, John,” he tells you, practically crooning the words, “Just like that.”

You laugh nervously, but you’re still _really_ hard and Dave is so focused on you and so sexy, you think, fuck it. You already agreed. You might as well go all out.

You keep one arm over your face, carefully balanced over your glasses to keep them from being mashed into your skull, and trail the other one down your chest. You can hear Dave snapping away and you really hope you come across as sexy instead of as embarrassed as you feel (or maybe sexily embarrassed??). Dave doesn’t give you any specific directions like he did when he photographed you before, just : “Do what’s natural.” Your fingers crawl over the waistband of your jeans, dragging over the bulge of your hard on. You give yourself a squeeze when Dave breathes, “Stay just like that.”

You feel him move closer, almost kneeling between your legs. He braces one hand on your thigh, so close to where you want him to touch you. He inhales shakily and says, “Go ahead.”

You give yourself another squeeze, the heel of your palm pressed just under the head of your dick while the tips of your fingers curl over the swell of your balls. The camera goes off again and again. You chance a look at Dave from under your arm. He’s still pink in the face, slack jawed behind his camera as he takes picture after picture of the slight shift in your fingers from you groping yourself through your jeans.

He lifts his hand from your thigh and places it on your hip instead, fingertips brushing the bare skin under your shirt. You shiver at his touch, arching into his hand as he pushes your shirt up over your stomach.

You moan when his hand slides back towards your jeans.

“Undo your pants for me?

You’re quick to comply, both hands on the button of your fly in a flash. Her touches one of your wrists as you fumble and tells you gently, “Slow down.”

It takes so much effort but you do. The button pops free with a tug from your hands, then you dip your fingers between the overlap of denim to pinch at the tab of your zipper. You pull it down tooth by agonizing tooth. You’re panting by the time you fold the front of your jeans open.

Then Dave runs his thumb up the underside of your cock. You jump, over sensitive, and all but slap the bed as you bite out a curse. Dave pauses with the pad of his thumb pressed against your frenum for a picture, snickering all the while.

“Asshole,” you gasp, toes curling in the carpet.

“Yeah, whatever,” he replies absently, pushing your shirt up more. You get the picture (hah) and pull it off slo-o-owly. It clears your head and then Dave goes to smooth the covers out at your side. You watch him fuss with an attachment for his camera once he’s satisfied with the bed, and after that he half lays down next to you to check the viewfinder. You sputter with laughter at the sheer absurdity of it.

You stop laughing the instant one of his knees comes down by your hips. He straddles you again, camera an arm’s length away. He pulls his shirt over his head just as slowly as you did, the camera clicking away on it’s own. He’s much more graceful about it than you were, hips rolling forward as the hemline rises. You swallow hard. Your tongue feels thick and dry in your mouth, which is dumb because you’re practically drooling over him.

He bites his lip as he grins at you. You groan another curse and place your hands on his hips, trying hard not to hump the air between your bodies. You sort of succeed, only arching up under him once. Even with his camera documenting your every move, you find you're not embarrassed anymore. Dave is looking at you with such care as he brushes one hand over your chest. Everything is perfect, camera included. After all, how many guys can say their first time was so professionally captured?

(Probably not many since you are twenty-two and all.)

Dave leans over and moves his camera closer, takes a picture, then brings it to his face to check it. You raise your eyebrows at him and he takes another picture before he puts the camera back.

“Didn’t want to leave my lap?”

“Nope,” he chirps back. You grin at how cute he is.

He leans forward, hovering over you to kiss. You dimly hear the shutter of his camera close over and over next to you as you kiss. Dave is not in any way being chaste, practically fucking you with his tongue. You groan against his lips, your fingers tight against his bare waist.

He pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath. It’s the calm before the storm, you know it. 

Instead of going back to devouring your mouth, he starts in on your neck. He drags his teeth over your throat before sucking on your skin. You just know you’re going to have a spectacular hickey later. You decide you don’t mind. You will wear this hickey proudly because it will tell the world you so got laid.

Dave’s hand on the side that’s facing the camera slides up your neck, tilting your head back. He moves in slow motion and it’s killing you. You want to pull his hips against yours and rut together like your life depends on it, which it might, because with the way things are going you might just die a horrible, boner induced death.

(You might secretly be a little glad that he’s not dick to dick with you. You’re already so close, you think any contact will be enough to set you off and you kind of want this to last forever.)

You whine his name and this time you know it’s sexy because he sucks in a surprised breath, exhaling hard against your skin. You tuck his hips closer to yours in hopes of moving things on just a little. He follows along willingly, rolling his hips against yours. The sudden friction sends sparks up your spine. You arch hard under him, your head thrown back. He licks up your neck, body sliding up yours just enough for him to kiss you on the lips.

There’s almost enough room between your bodies to fit your hands. Dave shifts over you, tilting his pelvis until you can reach the front of his jeans. You get them open much faster than you did yours, slipping your fingers inside.

“Hey there,” Dave says against your mouth as you run the back of your fingers along what you’re pretty sure is his dick. For your first time touching someone else like this, it’s kind of disappointing. Dave’s not even hard. Again.

“Dave,” you whine, frustrated.

He knows exactly what’s up because he mumbled an apology before saying, “I told you, you’re doing great. I just need more, you know, direct contact.”

You sort of remember him saying that last time, but you still can’t help but think it’s because he’s not actually all that into you. You must make a face because he sits back and looks at you with his srs business face.

“You _are_ doing great. You’re gorgeous and amazing and you turned on is so fucking hot. I’m enjoying myself, like, a lot, it’s just -- “ this time he’s the one who makes a face and looks away, running a hand through his hair; “ -- I’m ace. Asexual. Sex is cool and all and I don't mind having it but...”

You snatch your hands away when he trails off. Dave looks back at you for a second, dumbfounded before he covers his face with his hands.

“Fuck, sorry. That’s not what I meant.” He pulls his hands away and settles them on his thighs. “If I ever don’t want your hands on my junk, I will tell you, promise. I enjoy having sex. It’s fun and I like it. I just don’t actively seek it out.”

Dave looks more uncomfortable now after telling you that than he did after you touched his dick. You tentatively place your hands on his legs and he immediately goes to hold them. You feel like you should say something but you have no idea what. You guess Dave has no idea what to say next either since he just sort of tensely sits there.

“So, uh,” you start after a long moment because, really, one of you should say something, “What should I do?”

Dave looks startled by your question. “Nothing. I mean, nothing you wouldn’t do with anyone else. You go like, hey wanna do the do? and I’ll either be like, sure, in which case we do it or I’ll be like naw and we don’t.”

That’s true, you suppose.

Your boner has wilted away almost completely. RIP boner, it was nice knowing you.

“What now?” You ask instead, since it seems you’re not going to get laid this time either. Dave shrugs.

“Wanna look at the pictures I took?”

You shrug back; “Sure.”

Dave climbs off you and picks up his camera to remove the SD card. You roll to sit where his Mac lives at the end of his bed instead of laying across it sideways. He brings up the correct folder and scrolls until he finds the photos from today.

Some of them are kind of terrible, blurry or out of focus or poorly framed. He deletes those as you go until you’re left with just the good ones, and those are really good. He cycles through them again, slower this time, giving you plenty of time to get a good look.

You can definitely see why he’s won awards for his photography. The ones from the very beginning where you took of your shirt make you look way more attractive than you really are. Then come the ones where you’re laying back with your arm over your face, touching yourself through your jeans. You can feel your face heating up again.

The photos don’t look anything like the porn you’re used to seeing, but there’s no mistaking them for anything but porn. If they weren’t of _you_ , you’d probably save them to jack off to later, which is really saying something considering your general dislike of porn.

The pictures of Dave’s hand on the front of your boxers though… those you may have to request copies of. Looking at them brings the memory of him touching you back to the front of your mind. Your boner is resurrected.

Dave looks over at you when you squirm to settle your hard on in a more comfortable position without having to touch it. Since you didn’t bother to zip your pants back up, the tent you create in your boxers is… really obvious. You don’t have to look at Dave to know he’s eyeing your dick.

“So you like them then?” he asks, chinhanding smugly with his elbow on his desk.

“Shut up.”

“Naw dude, I’m glad,” he leans into you; “Which one’s your favourite?”

You cover your face with your hands and give him an anguished whine for an answer. Dave leans in even closer to rest his chin on your shoulder and a hand on your thigh.

You lick your lips and ask, “Do you wanna..?”

“Heck yeah,” is his immediate reply. He punctuates it by sliding his hand over your leg and onto your dick. You turn towards him, catching his lips with yours. His tongue in your mouth is so much better with his hand on your dick.

He pulls your dick out of your underwear right away, going straight for the prize. Between his lips and his hand, you come embarrassingly quick. Dave pulls away to go wash his hand with one final kiss.

When he comes back, he’s smiling, just a little. It’s the smile he has when he doesn’t realize he’s smiling. He’s changed into pj pants while in the bathroom and the boner he finally has is clear as day. You try not to stare at it but your dumb libido makes it hard to ignore.

He gently knocks you on your back and motions for you to scoot up his bed. You do and he immediately latches onto you, his slender body tucked right against your side. His boner presses against your hip and your dick gives a valiant attempt at rising to the hint of round two.

“Um, do you want me to,” you sort of gesture in the general direction of his hips.

Dave shrugs and kisses your bare shoulder and says, “Naw, I’m good with just some mad snuggles.”

“Okay.” You shrug back.

“Maybe next time,” he tells you.

“Okay.”

===>

ectoBiologist  
so um.  
about you being ace.

turntechGodhead  
what about it

ectoBiologist  
bluh idk how to say this without sounding at least kind of like an asshole.

 

turntechGodhead  
this is it this is where john breaks up with me

tentacleTherapist  
Pardon?

turntechGodhead  
ectoBiologist : bluh idk how to say this without sounding at least kind of like an asshole.

 

ectoBiologist  
i don’t really get it?  
like obviously you don’t reproduce asexually. you are not, in fact, an amoeba or anything.  
unless there’s something you’re not telling me.

 

tentacleTherapist  
John. If you break up with my brother because he’s ace I will personally castrate you.

ectoBiologist  
what?  
oh my god no, i’m not going to do that!!!!!!!!!

 

ectoBiologist  
oh my god dave i’m not going to break up with you!!! promise!!!!!!  
i just don’t know what i’m doing when it comes to sex things to begin with so i am extra clueless when you add in the whole you being ace thing?  
i don’t want to mess up  
and karkat’s no help.  
he’s just like “communication john”.  
except with, you know, capslock and more insults.  
which i’m taking to mean i should ask you what to do?  
especially since you’re more experienced with both you being ace and sex things.  
and, you know, the combination of the two.

 

turntechGodhead \-- sent file [untitled.png](%E2%80%9D%E2%80%9D) \--

turntechGodhead  
i cant look is it over

tentacleTherapist  
Dave, I suggest you do actually look.

turntechGodhead  
ugh

tentacleTherapist  
It’s okay Dave. He’s not breaking up with you.

turntechGodhead  
really

tentacleTherapist  
He is, in fact, being quite considerate and mature.  
And he’s a virgin? I am intrigued.

 

ectoBiologist  
dave?

turntechGodhead  
sorry  
what do you want to know

ectoBiologist  
uh  
i don’t actually know :T  
i mean, karkat says asexuality as a sexuality is where people aren’t interested in sex  
but you sort of said you do have sex???

turntechGodhead  
dude sexual attraction and libido are not the same thing  
i dont experience the former though the latter is sort of nonexistent most of the time too  
like i dont look at someone and think yeah i totes want to bone that person

ectoBiologist  
even me?

turntechGodhead  
yeah sorry john youre not the magic fix to my asexuality

ectoBiologist  
eheheh

turntechGodhead  
like im def attracted to you aesthetically and romantically  
id just rather cuddle and kiss and stuff instead of boning most the time

ectoBiologist  
okay.  
and what we did the other day?

turntechGodhead  
sex is cool  
like its fun to do  
mostly i like how intimate it is  
it makes for some bitchin intense pictures as you saw  
like im not all that interested in getting off thats just a bonus imo  
shit this probably doesnt make any sense

ectoBiologist  
no i think i get it.  
tl;dr sex is all about the emotions for you instead of the boners  
that’s cool.

turntechGodhead  
yeah thats one way to put it

ectoBiologist  
so what should i do if we do have sex?

turntechGodhead  
if?

ectoBiologist  
yeah.  
i mean, if it’s not really your thing we don’t have to.  
i’ve gone my whole life with just my hand so it’s not a big deal :)

turntechGodhead  
jfc egbert i am swooning so hard over here

ectoBiologist  
eheheheh

turntechGodhead  
u can totes do me bb anytime

ectoBiologist  
???

turntechGodhead  
by which i mean sex is cool  
fuck i sound like a broken record  
i have no strong feelings about sex?  
like im not grossed out by doing the do  
but i dont really care if we dont fuck  
its like taking a walk in the park  
sure we can do that and we can like hold hands and shit and itll be fun because im doing it with you

ectoBiologist  
d’aww <3

turntechGodhead  
but i wont be all broken up if we dont take walks in the park  
but i definitely dont want to walk in the park all the time that would get so fucking tedious and boring idek how people fuck constantly  
like ouch my dick way to give me friction burn

ectoBiologist  
ahahahahaha

turntechGodhead  
but like every now and then? sure thats fine

ectoBiologist  
okay. i can do that :B

turntechGodhead  
what really?

ectoBiologist  
yeah sure.  
i like *you* dave.  
we could never have sex and i’d still want to date you.  
you’re pretty cool, dude <3

turntechGodhead  
jfc youre perfect

ectoBiologist  
thanks <3

turntechGodhead  
<333

===> TIME : SKIP

“Dude, Dave, what are you _wearing_?”

Dave raises one eyebrow over his shades; “Clothes? They’re kind of important bro even when it’s hot as balls.”

“No, I mean,” you laugh. Your dorky boyfriend is wearing jorts, of all things, with one of those tank tops beefy frat boys wear with the arm hole down to the bottom hem and what looks like a sports bra. You cover your face as you giggle, “I honestly don’t know what I expected.”

He covers his chest with his hands and duckfaces at you. “Gotta protect my nipples maidenly virtue.”

You shove him then reel him back so you can hold his hand.

“You’re such a dork,” you tell him affectionately.

“Says the nerd who’s holding my hand.”

“That’s rich, coming from you, Mister I own every Pokemon game ever.”

“Sorry you’re jealous of my sweet trainer cred.”

You laugh the rest of the way to the bus.

On the bus, the two of you manage to snag a pair of seats together and the air conditioning lets you cuddle.

“So where are we going?” Dave asks.

“You’ll see.” You are going to sweep Dave off his feet. Again.

The market is packed with people now that it’s summer even though it’s a Tuesday. Luckily, you’re only cutting through. Dave catches on to your plan when you cross under the viaduct to the pier, the ferris wheel just in front of you.

“Happy anniversary.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaand that's the end. i may end up poking at more in this 'verse because i like it but if there's anything specific u want to see, feel free to hit me up on [tumblr](http://sumomomochi.tumblr.com) and send me an ask about it. prompts are totes a thing i will take for this 'verse.
> 
> thx for reading <333


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